Turning the Tables
by Celtic-Spaniard
Summary: A mysterious hunter rescues the Winchester clan, figures out who they are, and begins to manipulate fate as it were... but to the guys advantage? Who is this Nadia chick? Find out... Porphecies and bizarre stuff galore inside!
1. The Fateful Call

**Yet another version of season two's beginning. I've been mucking around with this idea since the season finale aired back in May. Hope it's to everyones liking. Chapter two is almost done. Please feel free to Review.**

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**CHAPTER 1: The Call**

Nadia had been going 90 mph down the lonesome highway just east of Jefferson City, MO; Pantera's 'Walk' came blaring from her stereo system when the wreck came into view. Muttering one word, she slammed on the breaks of her '69 Camaro…

_Shit!_ It really was a devastating site. A semi had t-boned an old muscle car. Upon getting out of her car, she took quick note of the damage.

There was glass everywhere. The truck driver was obviously dead; the menacing expression on his face gave her chills. But it wasn't the truck driver that made her whirl around… she heard something; a groan. _Oh god, someone actually survived this!_

Racing for the driver side, Nadia knew every second was going against her.

_Save the survivors._ Ripped through her mind, a thought that she had been drilled to act upon whenever the situation called for it; and now seemed to be one of those situations.

As she reached the driver's door, she skidded and slipped on loose gravel and glass. _Oop, fuck!_ She thought, but aside from her less than graceful slip, no other noise came from the 26 year old. Another groan; pained and barely audible, but the noise pricked at her sensitive hearing nonetheless. Grabbing the door handle she hefted herself up off the ground, but her heart fell back to the rocks and shattered glass. Three men were trapped in the car, bruised and bloodied up. At one time, the car had been as beautiful as its owners; but now everything lay before her in one big, twisted mess.

Another groan, _C'mon Nadia, quit gawking and act fast… think clearly._ The driver tried turning his head towards her… tried to, anyway.

"Shh, shh, don't move. You're going to be fine," her voice broke, "I'm here to help you… what's your name, hun?" Years of training had provided her a strong, stone-like heart, but there was something about these men that broke through her defenses and broke it.

"S-Sam… where's Dean? I-is my dad okay?" he stuttered with a child-like sadness, like he knew there was no hope for them. The statement made her grimace. She felt the need to look elsewhere; the trunk.

_I know that symbol!_ Just as the mental connection was made, a tinge of fiery pain ran up her spine, and split off into the two tattoos on her shoulder blades; which as the sleeves fell away from her shoulders, the tattoo's seemed to glow silver in the moonlight; the same symbols as the ones drawn on the car.

"Sam, they're going to be fine. Now, this is very important… Is there anything in the trunk that you need to hide from the authorities?" a sense of urgency fuelled her voice.

"Who are you?" he managed to croak.

"I'm… I'm Nadia; I'm a paranormal assassin… if that helps you to trust me."

"Assassin…?"

"Demon killer… supernatural hit woman… whatever you want to call it. But you guys need help, and I can't help you if you don't trust m—"

"Weapons… trunk…"

"Weapons? You have weapons in your trunk?" he groaned again and was finally able to roll his head in her direction. _Those eyes,_ she thought sadly, _he has abilities, too. And they're fading._

"Guns, knives, ammo, holy water… weapons; we're demon hunters, Nadia… and I trust you with our lives." It was a forced whisper, but it elicited a strong whimper from the hit woman.

"Okay, okay… think, Nadia. My little sister is an EMT in this area! I'll call her. Hold on, Sammy, hold on… you guys are going to be _just_ fine." As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she flew to her car to retrieve her phone; all the while grabbing her spare weapon bags from her back seat. _Okay, call Emily first… or clear out the trunk?_

_Fuck…no time…do both!_ Her mind screamed as she flipped open her phone with one hand and lifted the bent and open trunk with her other hand. Another chill ran up her spine at the touch.

'I'm sorry sis… can't save them all. I know you tried, but the older man was just too far gone. He bled out from the gunshot wound.' The voice was easily registered as her sister's, but the information made her lungs constrict and Nadia found herself gasping for air. But fighting her pain, like a good little killer does, she didn't stop from filling one knapsack, then the other and running back to her car while she waited for her sister to pick up.

'Hello?'

"Emily! Got a run for you… a semi hit a '67 Impala out on the highway… about ten minutes from you. Semi driver's dead. The Impala passengers and driver are alive from what I can tell."

'Can you give me a quick run down on the survivors?'

"Uh… three males, one… elderly fellow, early to mid-50's, got most of the impact, gunshot wound in right thigh. Guy in the back seat; mid to late 20's, multiple lacerations and gashes, out cold. Driver; early 20's, conscious, multiple bruising, lacerations and gashes… Em… he has abilities, too… be careful with him."

'Okay, we can be there in five… anything else?'

"Yeah, they're fellow hunters… so, hurry!" she begged as she closed her phone and went back to the twisted metal trunk. Moving these things was much easier with both hands.

"Sammy? Sammy, I want you to listen very carefully; the paramedics are on their way, you guys are going to be fine. But, I want you to put as much pressure on your father's gunshot wound as you can… okay? Can you do that, Sam?" She said as she dropped two bags with bullets and books. Sam seemed to be a little confused, "Sam… can you move any?"

"Yeah, but…"

"But what, honey?"

"How did you know about…"

"Don't think you're the only person in the world with abilities." She said sweetly, turning and motioning to the tattoo's on her bare shoulders. "How'd you think I knew about the stuff in the trunk?"

This time the injured driver smiled with her as he began to push down on a frighteningly unresponsive John Winchester.

"Sam…" she asked suddenly, the lightheartedness in her voice coming to an abrupt end, "Just how much do you trust me?"

"Why?"

"Because… Dean is about to die back here," She said as she stood next to Dean's broken window, "I can do something to help… but I need to know you trust me and won't freak out."

"Yes… what's happening to my brother?" he asked worriedly, but he received no answer. In looking into the mirror dangling helplessly from the door, his eyes widened in shock; she had placed her hand firmly over the large gash laced wickedly above his pecs, he could see by the expression on her face that she was applying a lot of energy and force unto it. Before he knew how to react to what he was seeing, the air around her hand seemed to ripple like water and his brother came alive with a weak gasp for air; his eyes fluttered open for a moment, looked around himself and at the mysterious girl, and then shut once more. As for Nadia, after the rippling effect occurred, she was thrown back a little bit, falling right on her ass. He could tell that most of her energy was drained in the simple act. "Nadia… what happened? What was that that you did?"

"Oh… that? You haven't done that yet? It's… a bit of a healing… ability." She said as she sat on the ground for a minute, she looked as if she'd just run a mile or two. "He would have bled to death before the ambulance ever got here. Your brother's got more than a fighting chance now, as do the rest of you guys, Sammy."

That's when she heard the sirens, sprinting back to the trunk she grabbed the one item she had missed; an old Colt with one bullet left. Gently she placed it in her own trunk and closed it before making one last run to the trashed car.

"Okay, Sam. Help is on the way; don't fight them. My little sister, Emily, is one of the EMT's; you can trust her as well. I'll meet you at the hospital. Alright, just apply as much pressure as you can until you hear them approaching. See you in a bit, Sammy." With one gentle tap on the hood of the once lovely Impala, she leapt into her car and sped off towards the hospital.

* * *

Emily had never been a huge fan of her sister Nadia and her loyalty to her family's profession. She had branched away years ago and had become an EMT instead of an assassin. But if it meant her sister brought in a call and actually saved a few lives… 

… Well, she could deal with that.

But when the ambulance pulled up to the crash site, she suddenly had a new-found respect for how strong a stomach her older sister had. Glass and blood and twisted metal were everywhere. Just as she had said, the semi's driver was dead; and it seemed that he had been creepily comfortable with how he went. "Ugh, creepy looking, fugly dude." She grumbled, and was surprised when she heard the soft laughter that followed her comment.

"Hi there, sweetie; I'm Emily, what's your name?"

"Sam."

"Sam? Okay Sam, you can relax now, we're going to take good care of you and your family. Tell me, Sam, who's who?" He lifted a shaky finger to the man next to him.

"That's my dad… back there's my big brother, Dean." Her heart shattered when she eyed the other two men in the car. _Nadia's no murderer…she's a saint.

* * *

_

It had been about nine years since the last time she'd been at the hospital, since her baby sister had first begun to volunteer as an EMT at the age of 16. So much had changed about the place; for one thing: no one recognized her; which she had always counted as a good thing. It had been hours since she made the call. _They're probably still in the ER or something._ She thought as she slipped outside for a cigarette to calm her raging nerves. Her senses peaked and her mind went into a frenzy when she felt the hand on her naked upper arm. But she refrained from defending herself when she caught sight of the tattooed wrist clasping her arm; a tattoo matching the ones on her shoulders.

"So… who are you this time, Nadia? Their sister, girlfriend, wife, parole officer… dog walker?" the young EMT said, stabbing at her sister's chosen path with words.

"Good to see you again, too, Em… it sure _has_ been a while."

"Answer me."

"Glad to see you haven't had that removed. It's the only thing saving your ass from possession. This year's been quite a busy one for those… record **30** possessions, so far." This seemed to catch the paramedic off guard.

"Why so many? Do you think the truck driver…" there was a pause, letting Nadia know exactly what her sister was talking about.

"In my professional opinion… it wasn't an accident. No such thing. You saw the trucker… don't tell me all this has made you forget your training."

"For as much as I wish it would, sometimes… no; my training actually helped with a lot of this." Dazedly, the 25 year old slowly sat down, "Wow; this is big. Whatever did this to those men… it's big, and now you've dragged your ass into it all. I hope you know what you're dealing with."

"Even if I don't… when have you ever known me to run from a fight?" she spat, mocking how, at one point in time Emily had run from a fight.

"Ouch."

"Can you sneak me in… a distraught girlfriend never deals with paperwork or doctors." Emily rolled her eyes dramatically, "Besides, you never know who's possessed or not, we have to be very careful, Emmy."

With that her sister stiffened and led Nadia back inside, and Nadia adopted an expression of utter panic and distress until they arrived at the room where the post-ER Winchester brothers were situated; sleeping peacefully with the help of heavy sedatives.

"Oh... Emily," Nadia whispered as her sister began to walk away from her, but the younger girl spun around at the mention of her name, "I'm going to need the name and address of the towing company that you guys work with."

"Why?"

"If these guys work the way I do… that car is very important to them. I want them to come out of this place with a very nice surprise." Emily snorted, shook her head at her sister and rolled her eyes once more. "What'd I do?"

"Where's my sister, and what have you done with her? Surely 9 years on the road by yourself hasn't turned you into this. You used to be so… I don't know; you didn't care about anyone but yourself and wasting the things that go bump in the night." She said as she coldly reminisced to her sister. Scrunching her nose as she caught a whiff of Nadia; she smelled like burnt rubber, gunpowder, blood, gas, sweat and tobacco. Her appearance wasn't much better; make up was faded or running, her maroon/auburn hair was tangled and flowing down to the middle of her back, her favorite red shirt had fallen off her shoulders showing off her tattoos, and her jeans were ripped and had visible traces of blood, glass and unknown liquid from a car.

"I did not, and I'm offended that you ever thought that! Was I like that? I just thought of myself as anti-social…huh."

"I see you're still smoking while saving the day." Emily deadpanned with a look on her face that clearly stated how annoyed she was.

"Well, saving peoples asses from things they refuse to believe exists is a rather taxing and stressful job… surely you remember, and I'm sure it required a little bit more of you than this job does." Nadia said in retaliation.

"I'll be back in half an hour with that info." She said flatly before adding, "And it really is good to see you again… skank."

"Cunt-monkey," Nadia quipped lovingly, hand grabbing blindly for the door knob as she watched her sister walk down the hall and disappear around the corner; Emily would never know how much she enjoyed seeing the young medic again. After years of protecting the girl, helping train the child… sheltering her and letting her take her rage out on Nadia when they're parents died… she thought they were inseparable, but the near decade long sabbatical her younger sibling had taken from the huntress proved otherwise. And for near ten years, Nadia went from hunt to hunt with a part of herself missing, constantly worrying if Emily was alright; but now, now she knew for sure and now she had reason to be near her again. Now she felt whole again.

The moment she walked into the room, she sensed a similar bond between the brothers; it worked quickly to aid each brother's recovery, and she smiled to herself.

"Hello again, boys." She said, suddenly realizing the conversation would be a bit one-sided. She picked up the clip board attached to the nearest bed, "Sam and Dean Weatherly… don't worry, sleep easily; I'm looking out for all three of you."

Nadia sat herself down in one of the terribly uncomfortable chairs in the room and watched the two sleeping forms dazedly. Something she would do everyday for the next two months after going to the car repair garage, overseeing the recovery of their precious mode of transportation. In that time, John was moved up to the same room and as a family they healed together, and judging from their laundry list of injuries… they healed quickly. For a good month all of them had been comatose, afterwards Sam would wake up for a few minutes each day; every time he'd wake to find himself extremely exhausted, never really noticing that the girl sitting in the room with them was not only _not_ their doctor, but the very same girl that had saved them from Death's icy grip.

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**So there's the beginning of it... Like it? Love it? Hate it? Got a question or suggestion? Let me know. **

** Catch you guys on the flip side.  
**


	2. Shocking Revelations

**Disclaimer: Forgot to put it on the first chapter, uh oh. I don't own the brothers, sadly. I don't own anything previously seen on the show... no, I pretty much just don't own anything... damn. Oh well, ENJOY!

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**Chapter Two**

One day at the end of those two months, Nadia peered around the corner at the Winchester's hospital room, her lithe form clinging to the wall while she waited for the doctor inside the room to leave again. Once he did, she turned the corner and stalked towards the door, hoping that no one of authority would show up and realize that she wasn't supposed to be there. Especially now, knowing that anyone of them could become possessed at any moment if they weren't already. She had made it to the door, too, before she heard the disapproving cough, the clearing of a throat, behind her. Turning slowly, with a fake 'innocent' smile at the ready, she mocked and mirrored the expression on Emily's face. 

"Caught me." Nadia jabbed.

"You're lucky it was me and not one of the doctors, Dia."

"I know… I was keeping watch, they're doctor just left. The area was clear, little sister." She said pseudo-sweetly, "Now, if you'll excuse me. I'm going to go check up on them, see how they're doing… I haven't been in this week, anyway…"

"Dia, its Monday."

"…What's your point?" The huntress looked clearly and honestly confused, "Listen, we'll talk later, how about you meet me in the cafeteria when you're done with your shift? Til then… see ya." Before Emily could protest, or speak at all, Nadia had disappeared into the hospital room. Shaking her head, the younger of the two walked away.

* * *

Inside the room Nadia made her usual rounds, sneaking a look at each clip board; observing the progress of their recovery. They were strong, very strong, and from what she could gather since they had all been put in the same room… strongest as a family. As she stood by Sam's bed, the young man began to stir. Luckily for the young woman, she had snatched some scrubs from the supply closet near the elevator. Sam woke up mumbling something she couldn't quite catch.

"Sam… Sam Weatherly? I'm nurse… Cunningham, according to your charts you'll be able to leave by the end of the week. How are you feeling, Sam?" She said immediately, it's not like it was her first time imitating any form of medical personnel.

"Tired," he confessed sluggishly, "how's my family?"

"Well, you'll feel that way for a couple more days; it's the medicine we've got you on. As for your brother… he should be back in working order and ready to leave a few days after you are. Your dad's doing pretty well himself, he's still in a coma, but his vitals are good and our doctors are more than certain he'll be waking up sometime in the very near future." Nadia said, finding comfort in the way her words caused the young man to visibly relax, "Now—if you don't mind—I'd like to ask you a few questions, all pretty standard in procedure…"

"Shoot." His reaction coaxed a smile out of her, whether he ever knew it or not.

"Okay, um, now these are purely confidential. If you don't want to answer them, you don't have to, but for the ones you do… I'm going to need you to be completely honest. Alright, let's begin…" Having been asked questions by medical staff before, she knew exactly what to ask and when to slip in a question of her own without him knowing and shutting her out; he was doped up on drugs anyhow, he'd hardly know half of what he was confessing. "Can you tell me what year it is, Mr. Weatherly?"

"2006."

"Okay, very good, Sam. Do you know _where_ you are? Aside from being in a hospital, I mean." The light scoff he managed to croak out was more than enough to give her hope.

"Jefferson City, Missouri."

"_Very_ good. Okay, do you remember what happened?"

"Was taking Dean and Dad here, they were hurt pretty bad… then… white, everywhere."

"Hmm… okay. Can you tell me what happened to them, what hurt them, Sam?"

"Demon… _The _Demon, surprised us; hurt them." He seemed scared in recanting the events of the night she had found them; her own brows furrowed at the information he was giving Nadia.

"Demon you say? What kind of demon and why was it after you?"

"Demon that killed mom and Jess… fire… blood. Dad had been hunting it, and we have the one weapon that can… kill it." _Fire? Blood?_ One _weapon that can destroy it…no, it couldn't be the same… could it?_

She cleared her throat before continuing, "Making great progress, Sam, you're doing wonderfully. Only a couple more questions to go, then you can go back to sleep."

"Okay."

"Okay… Sam, where are you and your family from?"

"Lawrence, Kansas."

"Alright… last one, just like I promised," the playful grin that found it's way to the young man's face almost made her wish she didn't have to stoop to this level to find out all this information. "How old are you and your brother?"

"I'm 23… Dean's 27." He followed the comment promptly with a yawn.

"Wonderful, Mr. Weatherly; wonderful job…alright, I'm going to get out of your hair and you rest up." She got up gathering her little notebook and pen and sticking them in the back pocket of her jeans underneath the scrubs, "If I don't get to see you before you're released… welcome back to the world, Sam Weatherly."

As she snuck back out of their room and discarded the scrubs, she found new purpose for her presence in the hospital; she needed to find a computer of some sort to find all that she could on Lawrence, Kansas in the past 20 or so years. Good thing it was late, she knew that doctors in cities like this rarely hung out in their offices at night. And as luck would have it, there was an office a few doors down, and its occupant was just locking up for the night when she spotted it. Waiting for the good doc to walk away, she crouched in front of an abandoned restock-cart. Peeking around the corner, she stood when the elevator doors closed.

"Showtime," she murmured with a smile. Picking locks had always been second nature to her so this one was undone and opened in less than 15 seconds flat. She was situated and ready to perform any hacking necessary when the computer finished booting up. And wouldn't you know it; this daffy doctor had no problem trusting anybody who could possibly break it… no passwords or anything. "Google it, bitch!" she whispered to the screen, waiting impatiently for her results to pop up. She couldn't help but feel a bit shell-shocked when it did load.

'Nov. 2, 1983: House catches fire, mysteriously killing one… wife, mother of two young boys… Dean Winchester, age 4… Sam Winchester, age 6 months… husband John Winchester…'

_Okay, let's check for anything else on Sammy…_

'Nov. 2, 2005: Palo Alto, CA. Apartment mysteriously catches fire, killing one… Jessica Moore, 22, dies in fire… boyfriend Sam Winchester left grieving.'

_Oh god, it _is_ the same demon. Well this is just wonderful… he said something about a weapon, the only thing that could kill It. But if it's the same demon, then… no, it doesn't exist… that was just a story mom and dad told us to keep us interested in… oh my god…it's true then…_

_Forecast for today is Satan's shit-storm… where's it at? Centering over the Winchester's and what's left of the Coltier line. Great, just fucking great._

Hastily, Nadia rushed to delete the internet history and remove any trace that she had been there before relocking the office door and racing down the many hallways and corridors of St. Mary's Health Center to the cafeteria where her sister waited patiently for the huntress to arrive.

"You've never been one to show up on time… Nadia? What's the matter… you're all flushed…" Her sisters attempted scolding withered away to panic when she saw the peculiar way Nadia had come into the room.

"Emily, this is _so_ much bigger than I could have ever guessed." She whispered with wide eyes. To which her sister sighed heavily in reaction to, before speaking up herself.

"So… what is it? And how early is it that you need to leave? Now that you've found out whatever it is that's going on." She couldn't bring herself to face her sister; last time they parted it had been Emily who left, Emily who abandoned her big sister. But now that the person she'd always thought would be there to watch her back was leaving her behind.

"When am _I _leaving? Oh, no, no, no… when are _we_ leaving. This is way too big for me to leave you to fend for yourself; you're coming with me whether you like it or not. We're going where people like us can be safe." Nadia's stern tone left no room for arguing; it was an order, something both girls were used to, and not about to disobey.

"What do you have in mind?"

"Moseley;" she said looking around suspiciously, barely catching her sisters brief flash of confusion, "We can't talk about it here, It could be watching. Don't come in to work tomorrow… if you tell them you won't be there, It'll know something's up and It'll come after you. That's a risk I'm not willing to make."

Emily felt like the world around her was spinning out of control; one minute it's the nice, safe, normal, apple-pie kinda life and as soon as her sister steps back in the picture BAM! Back to freaky-ville, USA! _Where people like us can be safe? _It_ could be watching? Risks she's not willing to take? What in the hell is going on? She'd better fill me in tomorrow if she expects me to play along_. _Wait…where's she go?_

"Nadia... Nadia? Nadia!" She called, realizing she was in an empty cafeteria. "Well shit, why does she always do this?"

She nearly jumped out of her skin when she felt the familiar vibrations of the cell phone anchored to her upper right arm. "Holy mother of pickles! Goddamn cell… better not be another run… what the?" She could barely believe what was staring her in the face; a text message, but this time not the usual coordinates:

'1624 Jefferson St, 0300 hours  
Rm 224. Be ready'

_What the…Motel 6? She's staying at the Motel 6? And she expects me to be there and ready in less than four hours…fucking great._ She thought bitterly, shaking her head and stowing the phone back into its holster. Sighing, she took one last look around; after nine years, everything normal she'd tried so hard to achieve was ripped away once more. _Serves me right, I suppose, thinking someone like me could possibly have what I want for myself. Well, at least I got the opportunity… god knows Nadia never got that, and probably never will._

_Goodbye normal life…hello once more to my crazy, criminal past.

* * *

_

Meanwhile back at the motel; Nadia waited patiently for 3 am to roll around, keeping herself busy by cleaning her guns, sharpening and wiping down blades, brushing up on any and all knowledge that she had on The Demon. She would be ready when the time came for it. What she wasn't ready for was another vision. _Goddamnit, perfect, just perfect! _She thought as pain blossomed behind her eyes. _Why does it hurt? It never hurts…or at least it hasn't in years. What's happening to me?_ She thought before the images came flooding into her mind's eye.

**She and Emily were at their destination, their safe house, resting in the kitchen; each girl nursing a cup of tea. That's when they heard the rumbling, it sounded like an old car engine… very similar to Nadia's Camaro, in fact.**

**The front door was flung wide open; they could hear the voices clearly all the way in the kitchen, at the back of the house. Their host stood by the front door, greeting new guests with a soulful, knowing laugh.**

"**Good to see… again, alive and well I see… very good… Sam… you been doing… abilities, I mean?"**

"**Same."**

"**Hmm, and I trust you're keeping him out of trouble?"**

"**As best as I can..." Said the other voice, unlike the other young man's, it was one Nadia couldn't identify. It was obvious that the other man was Sam Winchester… but who was it that was with him?**

"**Boys, come on in… someone I'd like for you to meet… going to help you…powers." The door was shut, and they could tell that the three people were heading to the kitchen to greet the girls. Nadia felt a great sense of apprehension, but couldn't quite understand why. "We're lucky to have her… I didn't think she'd come… she even brought her little sister with her…"**

**Nadia felt herself giggle as she caught Emily delivering her signature eye-roll, mouthing, 'Little sister, ha, little.' It distracted her from noticing the voices had entered the room. The long time friend that was housing them cleared her throat and began introductions.**

"… **these young ladies are the last… line of demon hunters; Nadia… sister Emily. Girls… Sam and Dean Winchester." She felt the color flush from her face as her eyes sprang open, her head bounced up from retreating to the observation of her teacup. **

"**Have we met?" Sam inquired politely, she could tell Dean didn't recognize them; he instead stared at Nadia in hopes of catching her attention on a more social level.**

"**Uh, I've heard about… Winchester men… but I can't say… ever met… before." She fibbed quickly, clumsily; thrusting her hand forward to authenticate her sincere deception.**

There it was… the beginning of the end in a way. Nadia paused, momentarily neglecting her work; mentally noting how strange that vision had been. Not only did it hurt like they had when she first began to receive them, but the dialogue was choppy; almost to the point where it didn't make sense, another thing that hadn't happened since she had first come into her powers.

Glancing at the digital clock on the lamp post, which read 2:37 am, she sighed loudly in frustration and began to pack everything back into her car while she awaited her sister's arrival.

When she had finished and double checked each inch of the room for anything she might have forgotten, Nadia retrieved her phone from her pocket and made one last call.

* * *

It was 3:03 am when the taxi pulled into the Motel 6, it was then that Emily was slammed by emotions she hadn't felt in almost 10 years. She was skeptical, scared even; she had no idea what was going on, what she was up against, or what her sister had planned in that devious mind of hers. All she knew was that she had to trust her, and with 9 years between now and the last time she was forced into this situation, Emily began to doubt whether or not she could even do it anymore. But there it was room 224, the old black Camaro backed into the parking spot in front of it, all doors wide open. She shook her head as she clambered out of the cab, grabbing for her bags, _Just like old times._

Emerging from the room, she saw Nadia was deep in conversation with someone. "Yes, room 313 on the fourth floor… the Weatherly's. Did you put those boxes I gave you in the back seat and trunk? Thanks Joe, I really appreciate you doing this for me… well, ya know, I would deliver it to them myself but I'm about to head out of town with my sister… yea, road trip to reconnect with her… it's been about 9 years, I told you that. When will you be able to drop the car off? Around noon… okay and I did remind you to **not** let them know who saw to the Impala's repair? Okay Joe, no just double checking, I've got to make sure this goes as planned. Okay, thanks very much, Joe… for everything. I'll talk to you later, bye now." She finished as Emily took her last steps towards her sister, tossing Nadia a questioning glance. "What? Just tying up some loose ends with something important… you're late, kiddo."

Emily continued to stare at her sister, who was standing with her arms crossed over her chest waiting for an explanation; giving a slightly annoyed look before sighing, running a hand through her chin length curly brown locks. "Well, between packing and waiting for the slow-ass cabbie to arrive; I was wondering what in the hell possessed you to try leaving for Lawrence at three in the morning. It's a two hour drive, isn't it?"

Nadia rolled her head back as a muffled chuckle rumbled in her throat, pivoting she tossed the last of her things into the trunk of the car beckoned for her sibling to hand her whatever bags the young medic had brought with her. "It is, but we're not going straight there… I need to make a stop in Blue Earth."

Emily scrunched her features as she drank in the information. "Blue Earth… Minnesota? Going to pay Pastor Jim a visit?"

"Something like that…" she said as she slammed the trunk, "Don't tell me you haven't heard?"

"Heard what?"

"Jim's dead; demon got him, and get this…" she said when her sisters face twisted in shock, "He was _in_ the church, on hallow ground… in his arsenal room, in fact."

"What kind of demon could do that?" Emily inquired softly.

"I'm guessing it was one of the upper level jerks; either that or Uncle Jim was being careless… but its Jim, he wouldn't do that. Anyway, there are a couple of books and weapons we need; I spoke with one of his fellow clergymen when I got the call, Jim's left his library as well as his armory to us. But I can't snag all of it in one go; I'm only taking what we need for now. So I figured if we left now, we could get there, get what we need and get to Lawrence by dinner. It'll be a good 15 hours, give or take." Nadia had a serious look abut her as she explained, patting at her pockets in search of her keys. Emily raced to the passenger seat with newfound speed; learning your last living relative—aside from an older sibling—is now dead tends to elicit speed as well as a quiet and deadly rage.

"Did you factor in your type of driving into your time guesstimate?" the question sounded innocent enough, but from the smug expression on Emily's face, Nadia knew she was purely being a smart ass.

"What's wrong with my driving?"

"Nothing…you would have made a wonderful ambulance driver, speed is key with an ambulance." She rolled her eyes when Nadia continued to look at her as if she had a second head growing out of her neck. "You drive like a fucking bat out of hell."

"_So_?" The huntress huffed indignantly as she twisted the key and bade her beloved vehicle to come alive and roar down the highway. "…fine, we'll make it to Moseley's by 4… even with you being a drag-ass." She joked as the car pulled out into the interstate and the girls began their trek to the old church in Blue Earth.

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**Yaaay! Haha, so there's chapter two. Since I haven't gotten any reviews of praise or 'ew remove this crap', I'll consider that a green light on keeping the story up and that I'm doing pretty good with it. Reviews are lovely things.**

** Anyway, I'll get chapter 3 up ASAP. Until then, adios.  
**


	3. What's what? Who's Who?

The Winchester men had always hated waking up in hospitals, none more than Dean; in his mind, though, there were different variations of how irritating it actually was. Waking up at night with one or both members of his family by his side was the most tolerable, and the worst would be waking up in the stark white hospital rooms in the middle of the day, drapes open, without a familiar face close by to greet him. Unfortunately for him, he just happened to wake up to the latter, and the aggravating sounds of beeping machines didn't help in the slightest.

Groaning angrily his eyes snapped open when he heard a chortle ring out from across the room… _Sammy!_ Sure enough, when he tilted his head upwards, he was greeted by the same geeky grin, and twinkling eyes framed by that Beatle-wannabe mop that could only be his baby brother. "Sammy… you're ok."

"Yea," the lanky young man drew out, "don't get too pissed, we'll be released in a few days."

"And dad?"

"Doc's say he should be coming out of his coma any day now… you remember anything?" he asked, after the impact of the truck, whatever followed was blurry; but he could shake the feeling that Dean had come _dangerously_ close to dying, and something or someone had come rushing in to help… before the paramedics got there, anyhow.

"I…" he remembered waking up for a moment before they had been rushed to the hospital, he remembered a feminine smile that melted into a worried frown, he remembered seeing a woman panic, then the feeling of his strength beginning to return to him; then he was out again. But it was silly; it didn't make sense… did it? "After the crash… nothing."

Before they could discuss anything any further, a nurse barged in through the doorway.

"Oh, you're both up I see. You guys in the mood for a visitor?" The nurse said as she walked squeakily from one bed to another, checking vitals and charts. Sam furrowed his brow as he took note of the young woman's squeaky shoes, the doctors and most of the nurses all had squeaky shoes… all except that one that came in the night before; she was quiet, funny and… different. What was her name? Cunningham?

"Who is it?" Dean asked warily; hoping she didn't say cops.

"A mechanic, uh, said his name was Joe Racine; according to him, he's got a very pleasant surprise for you gentlemen." She hadn't said much, but already the boys were getting annoyed by her voice.

"Racine?" Sam questioned, "Oh yea, of course, Ol' Racine. Yea, send him on up." He fibbed, hoping to get rid of the girl quickly while Dean eyed him suspiciously, "Oh, wait, one more thing…"

"Yes?" She asked, she'd gotten as far as grabbing the doorknob before pivoting to look back at the boys.

"Um, Nurse Cunningham… is she working today?" the young man requested, his brother's stare screamed 'Why does he always get the girl!'

"Cunningham? Cunningham, Cunningham, Cunningham… nope, we don't have any nurses on staff by that name; sorry hun." With a sad grin the irritating nurse stepped back out of the room, leaving two very confused hunters.

"Nurse Cunningham? How'd you come across this non-existent nurse?" Dean could feel himself quickly edging into belligerence.

"She came in last night and asked me some questions… you know, the standard questions these people ask. She wasn't like the other nurses…"

"Probably because she's not one?" the elder brother exclaimed sarcastically.

"Obviously that, but… I don't know, she didn't squeak, she was funny…"

"Hot?" Sam glared at his brother, never thinking with his big brain.

"I don't remember, I was a little loopy. But… she—I—there was something about her that… I don't know." Sam was truly perplexed at his loss of words as well as his sudden inability to string together a proper sentence.

"She's gotta be something if she can make you all tongue tied, loopy or n—" before he could finish, the old greasy mechanic they had been told about entered; both brothers finding themselves a bit suspicious of the man. He didn't seem to notice, in fact, he looked quite pleased with himself and fairly happy to see the boys.

"Hello… the Weatherly brothers, yes?" he asked carefully, going on when he saw them both nod slowly, "I have a big surprise for the two of you. You see, I work one of the local towing and car repair garages in town. The St. Mary's EMT's bring their ambulances to me and I more or less clean up after the accidents they tend to…"

Dean couldn't take anymore, he knew this man had taken his baby; the thing was probably a crushed cube by now. "How bad is the damage to my car?"

"The Impala? Oh, when she was brought in… it was enough to make the strongest man weep." Dean mournfully lowered his head. "But, I worked day and night on her for the past two months. Finished just last night, and now she's back in shape… hell, maybe better."

A hearty chuckle erupted from Dean as he rejoiced in the news of his car. "How much do I owe ya, Joe?"

"Oh," he said deviously, "that… you don't owe me a cent. It's already been paid for in full; though the lady responsible wishes to remain anonymous… oh shit."

"Lady… her name wouldn't happen to be Cunningham would it?" Sam demanded; his brother was still in too much shock over not owing anything to react too much at the moment.

"No… not that I'm saying what the young lady's name really is…"

"But you've already slipped enough to tell us it was a girl, why not just spill the rest?"

"Because I promised her, that's why! Anyway, it's waiting for you guys in the parking lot with boxes full of the stuff you had in the car before the accident." He said as he edged his way over to the door, "You kids take care of yourselves; the hospital is no place for young pups like the two of you."

A good 15 minutes or so after Joe the mechanic left their room; Sam continued to stare disbelievingly at the door as if he were still there. His glance only wavering when he heard the familiar sound of Dean humming some random Metallica song, "Does any of this seem a little odd to you, a little too coincidental?"

"Mmm… how do you mean? First you're new squeeze isn't part of the hospital staff, then we get the Impala back from Mr. Cryptic Mechanic… nah, nothing weird about any of it." Even with their current situation in mind, if Dean saw an opportunity for sarcasm… he would take it.

"Maybe it's her…" Dean couldn't help but silently agree with Sam, perhaps this Cunningham chick was the one that found them on the side of the road and she had just snuck in the night before to check on them. Perhaps it had been her who had funded and oversaw the repair of the Impala; in which case, she knew about who they really were, she knew about everything they had in their car… was she a hunter like themselves?

"When she talked to you last night… what did she look like?" He'd never know how Sam was shocked and amazed, time and time again, at his brother's ability to go from sarcastic-as-all-get-out to dead serious in a matter of seconds.

"Uh… the usual mint green scrubs, brown/auburn hair… it's a bit unclear because of the medicine… dark eyes, and tan I think." Sam recalled, focusing on the girl so much that he didn't catch his brother's bewildered look as he realized he had just described the girl he thought he saw after the crash.

_So it _wasn't_ all in my head._ "Okay and you said she was quiet, funny…"

"I think she had abilities, too." blurted the younger hunter.

"Whoa, wait, what now… abilities, Sammy? How do you know?"

"It was her tone, and the way I knew she was looking at me… almost sympathetically yet not quite. She wasn't pseudo-sweet like nurses usually are, like she knew this was the last place we wanted to be in… you should have heard the way she talked about how you were doing," he couldn't help but roll his eyes at the expected ego-centric grin that blossomed when Dean heard that she had talked about him, "…It was like she knew how important your survival was to dad and me, like she actually cared what happened to us."

"Well that's something that doesn't happen every day… I could get used to that sort of thing." Sam would have made some kind of snarky remark, but the shrill ring of a cell phone somewhere to the left of him got in the way. It had been the first time he noticed it, but his phone had been placed on the small table next to him. _Well shit, I thought I lost this in the accident._ When he checked the caller Id he felt strangely comforted: Missouri.

'Sam, is that you boy?'

"Yes ma'am, it's me."

'Good, good. Are the three of you still stuck in the hospital?'

"Yes… wait, how'd you know about that?"

'Honey… don't ask questions you already know the answers to. How are you boys healing up?'

"Dean and I will be able to leave the hospital in a few days. Is something wrong, Missouri?" both young hunters looked worriedly at each other as the conversation unfolded.

'No, not really; I heard about the accident and was concerned about how the three of you were doing.'

"Oh, well, we're doing a lot better now."

'Good… Sammy, when you and your brother can leave… I want you to come to Lawrence.'

"Why?"

'Because it's not safe anymore for the three of you; you're still on the mend and I would feel better knowing you were someplace safe until you boys are fully recovered… especially you and that gun, Sammy.'

"Okay, we'll head to Lawrence as soon as we can."

'See that you do, I'll be expecting you boys here by Friday… 'that sound about right?'

"Yes ma'am, Friday… see you then."

'Tell Dean I said hello… and to wipe that look off his face, it'll get stuck that way, and I know he doesn't want to look curious for the rest of his life.' Sam couldn't help but laugh.

"She says to knock it off with that look on your face." To which Dean's only reaction was a brief scowl.

'I'll talk to you boys later.'

"Okay, bye."

"What the hell, dude? We're going to Kansas?" Dean asked incredulously.

"She wants us to squat someplace where we can be safe for a while… and what better place than with her." He shrugged; knowing that even after the events that went down last time they were in town, his brother was still a bit squeamish about their hometown.

And sure enough, around noon three days later the brother's were released from the hospital and left for the short trek to the psychic's house. At first they were unsure about leaving their father in Jefferson City, but finally decided it would be alright. He would be only two hours away and they would leave instructions with the doctor to call them as soon as John woke up.

Dean had nearly jumped with glee when he laid eyes on his precious car; he couldn't recall a time when the vehicle had looked better. Both young men were surprised and relieved to find the boxes filled with their armory and whatnot inside; after a thorough check they concluded that nothing was missing… thank god.

During the entire trip to Missouri's they talked briefly about the mysterious girl, but only briefly. Though, even when talking about other things, both young men thought about her the entire way there.

Little did they know that the mystery of 'nurse' Cunningham was about to be solved…

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** Hope you guys are finding yourselves enjoying this one. I'm finishing up chapter 6, tweaking 4 so I can post it soon. This one's going to be updated a bit more frequently than the other have; and those will be updated soon. But as always, updates are always great incentive to continue onward.**


	4. Pastor Jim's OTHER Journal

Meanwhile, in Blue Earth; while the girls walked down the dim and ominous isle of the large stone church they remembered playing in as children; Nadia realized that it had been a good couple of years since she had gone to visit the late priest, possibly fourteen years for Emily. As they rummaged through their uncle's private armory room in the church basement, they couldn't help but notice and cringe when they discovered that not all of Jim's blood had been cleaned from the spot where he died.

Emily strayed from her browsing; standing perfectly still, staring at the dried blood… she was paralyzed by the shock and grief. _Pastor Jim… Uncle Jim is gone… dead. Murdered._ She had to struggle to keep the burning bile from rising in her throat; it just seemed to be too much all at once. _How can you keep your head in this place, sis? How can you be so cold that you can take from a dead man? At least _stop_ and acknowledge the pain… for once **goddamnit!**_ As Nadia began to walk behind her sister, carrying a large and decrepit looking book to where she had placed one of her ammo bags when her sister grabbed her arms.

"Em—" she gasped in concern.

"Just stop, stop moving, and stop running around… just _stop _for a minute!" the younger huntress cried, her emotions kicking in and taking over. "He's gone, he's _gone_ and we're never going to see him again, Dia. At least pretend that you notice it, pretend that you feel the pain for a moment. But stop from your damned 'holy mission' and at least cry a little for Uncle Jim! I mean, for fuck's sake… _he_ _died right_ _here!_"

"Emily!" her sister had been caught completely off guard by her sibling's breakdown; placing the book down on a nearby pile she gathered Emily's sobbing form close to her. The child had gone hysterical, leaving her sister to feel a faint sting of failure; it was her job to keep Emily safe, keep her from pain, and here she was crying and feeling more than enough pain for the both of them. "Emily, hun, calm down; you have to _calm down._ You don't think I miss him or that being here doesn't suck as much to me as it does to you? Sis, I miss him _just _as much and it hurts _just _as bad; but I know he went down fighting, more than likely protecting us or someone from his circle of hunter buddies. Emily, it's been over two months since he died; I've shed my share of tears and then some…"

"Wait, two months ago when you first walked back into my life… did you know?"

"No I didn't, but the day he died I knew something had gone horribly wrong. The balance on the world seemed uneven; without even knowing what for, I mourned. I didn't actually find out for sure until after I left you in the hospital cafeteria last night. Sweetie, I'm not slowing down because he taught me…_us_ differently! He wouldn't want us to wallow around, ignoring our responsibilities, risking our _lives_. Reflect on your actions once you're absolutely certain the battle at hand is over, _remember_? You want to honor the memory of our uncle?" she asked as she drew her sister away from her and clamped her hands to Emily's shoulders, shaking her slightly, "Remember and apply _everything_ he trained us to do, so that when we do see him again he'll smile and be proud of the effort he put into training us."

Nodding her head, Emily began to turn her head back to the spot of blood, but her sister's strong hand twisted her head so that she was face to face with her again.

"And _stop_ looking at it… it'll just make you feel worse." Emily stared into her eyes, and instead of seeing them cold and emotionless, they were bloodshot and…sad? Closing them, Nadia tilted her head down and returned to what she had been doing before Emily's little episode. She had been rash and selfish in her grief, and now she felt awkward. Looking around, the younger of the two searched for something she could grab to help her sister.

"Hey, I think I found his journal." She said as she hefted the book to shoulder level. Behind her, Nadia looked up from stuffing a set of throwing knives into her bag.

"No, I already have his journal in the bag… that must be something else, flip through it." the elder encouraged in returning to her work; nodding her head, Emily opened the book and read through the first page.

"You're right, it's not… it's not his demon journal; it's a journal about us, starting the day we first came here…" flipping to the back she checked the most recent date, "all the way to three months ago. But… we haven't seen him in years… I haven't, anyway."

Finally glancing upward at her sister to get a good look at the journal, Nadia recognized it instantly. _That damned huge-ass book he was always toting…that's what it was for?_ She barely registered the light and quick steps she took to close the gap between them; pulling the book into her own grasp she studied it. Her fingers traced the elegant cursive, memorizing the pen strokes as it were. Tears began to shimmer as she read the first page:

_November 3, 1988_

_It has struck again; last time it was my friend John's family who felt the loss at the hands of that damnable creature. This time, however, It decided to strike _much_ closer to home; my baby sister, Julianna. Took her husband, Nick, too; leaving behind two small and helpless individuals who will struggle with this loss for years to come. Their daughters, Nadia and Emily. Lord knows how they were able to evade the monster for so long, but in its bitter evilness, It left the girls with no-one, no-one but me._

_I hardly qualify as guardian, or parent for that matter; as I look up at their puffy, red, tearstained faces as they pile out of the police car to come live with their last living relative…such sweet young ladies, for as much as their parents were able to do on the matter of training them, the older one doesn't look like she can even hold a small handgun steadily. I've got my work cut for me, but I won't let them down. Nadia is already showing startling signs of an unbreakable love for her sister, she's quite protective of the child._

_It's not fair really, to see two perfectly healthy children so sad; their eyes empty except for the silent rage that boils over. Especially the eight year old; her demeanor is neutral, but her eyes… so cold, 8 year olds should never look like this! Sadly, she's not the first of that age to look that way; John's first born was like that since he was four, but considering who his father is…it's in their DNA to seem formidable. But my nieces? I would have them running, giggling, and playing on the church grounds; not shooting guns, learning to pick locks, bow-hunting, or easing their ways into becoming trained, professional liars and con artists._

Nadia smiled mournfully, wiping away a tear that had dared escape from behind her eyes. Before she had allowed herself to read over anything in the book she gave her sister a list of items she needed, she needed a break anyhow; after the strange vision earlier and her sister's outburst, she was tired and felt the pull of needing to sit down for a few minutes. Controlling herself a little bit, she read on.

_November 10th, 1988_

_It seems I've _greatly_ underestimated _both_ girls. Emily shows infinite potential of being an excellent researcher, reading book after book…whatever she can get her hands on and take pages of notes from each. She's fast, too; running through the woods much faster than I've ever been able to… even when I was in my prime. Her exorcism reciting is exquisite, and her practices with first aid seem to be so natural, like she was a doctor in a past life and has yet to lose the touch of said past life. _

_Oh, but Nadia is quite a force to be reckoned with. At the shooting range I gave her a small berretta, she pushed the gun away, went to the table and picked up one of John's signature sawed-off shotgun's, whirled around and with _one hand_ emptied the contraption with deadly accuracy. Her other skills match or exceed those of her sisters, but there's something else…something I can't quite put my finger on. It's as if she knows exactly what to do and has a fool proof plan at the ready the moment a situation pops up._

_Yes, these girls will be quite dangerous when they're older. I'm proud to say that the warriors of good will have these two femme fatales on their side, they're sure to tip the scale; it's almost a shame, evil will be seriously outweighed by the sheer will and talent of Nadia and Emily. There's an eerie glow of enjoyment in Nadia's eyes when she's practicing. I see so much of my late sister in both of them already, I can only imagine how many hearts they'll deceive and break in the coming years. Solely being deadly is one thing, but to be deadly beautiful…perhaps, unlike everyone else in their family, they'll be lucky enough to see old age. I'm confident that they will._

"Done… you ready, Dia?" the sudden interruption caused her to jump a bit, her sister stood before her with softness in her tone, as well as in her deep green eyes.

For the next couple of hours Nadia sped towards Kansas, they were quiet until Emily pulled the book out from the backseat. "Mind if I read some out loud?"

A tiny smirk flickered as the driver nodded; without taking her sights off the road she reached out and lowered the volume of the Bob Seger cd that had been blaring, making it barely a whisper.

"Okay… _September 18th, 1991… _a month before you're 12th birthday, huh!" She exclaimed as the memories came rushing back to her, she remembered that day; Uncle Jim had gone down to the room they had picked to be theirs nearly three years earlier; the East basement, it had multiple secret entrances aside from the main one. The West basement didn't, and the rectory rooms weren't as mysterious as the East basement, so they chose not to live in the rectory. But that day, Jim came down there early that morning to tell them that an old friend was coming to visit with his two sons, but he had received orders from someone that the girls were to be introduced as locals, children of some church patrons from the neighborhood across the street… the family would learn of the girls true identities at a later time, and they wouldn't learn there's either. The sisters didn't fully understand, but they would listen to their uncle nonetheless.

"_John and his boys arrived today, the girls were out playing in the cemetery when they pulled in. John was leaving the brothers with me while he went on a hunt outside of town for a couple of days. For the better part of this afternoon John and I sat on the front porch catching up while the boys wandered into the cemetery as they usually did. From what Nadia told me, they snuck up on her and Emily, or as she described it, she _let_ them sneak up on her and her sister. The four played amongst the headstones and mausoleums until dark; they all played as if they were normal kids. God, if only they _had_ been normal children. _

_They all enjoyed each other very much, that was quite clear to me as they meandered back to the rectory for dinner; the boys had invited Nadia and her sister to dinner, the girls had a good laugh about that. Afterwards little Dean, who's almost 12 now, Lord save us, and Nadia were found playing cards on the front porch. And after a great deal of time searching, they finally found their younger siblings in my library, asleep and curled up next to each other on the couch with a large book open and covering their little legs. Little Sammy may be 7 and three years Emily's junior, but the two were both equally brilliant and curious; they had hit it off instantaneously._

Do you remember those boys? Because I don't, I remember playing in the cemetery that day but I don't remember them." Emily confessed, scratching her head. There was momentary pause while her sister thought on the question.

"No, can't say that I do." She lied; of course she remembered that day, she'd hustled Dean, out of 5 bucks. She had been damn proud of her hustling skills since that day. And she definitely remembered finding her and little Sammy sprawled out on the sofa in Jim's library. She also knew that they were the three men she'd found in the wreck a few months prior. Changing the subject a bit, she took note of the mile marker half a mile in front of them. "Looks like we'll be making record time, we'll be pulling into Missouri's by 3, maybe 3:30… is that all Jim wrote for that day?"

"Oh, uh, no… sorry…

_I could see all too clearly that the girls greatly enjoyed being in the company of other kids, being able to run and play and at least pretend to be normal; sans talk of demons or evil entities. I find myself wondering if maybe, one day, Nadia and Emily will get the chance to run into the brothers again…it doesn't seem likely, but still, hope eases all pain, does it not?_

_The kids are all in bed and possibly asleep. It's getting late and there is much to do in the next few days._"

Silence slithered into the car and made both huntresses slightly uncomfortable, bits of their lives that had been muted or generalized had been re-forged, remembered by the book. The younger, because she was still unsure if she even wanted to remember her upbringing; and the elder because hearing Jim's actual thoughts made her sad, made her want to sit down and talk with the deceased priest over a cup of coffee again.

"Is there an entry for September 24th of that year?" Nadia inquired quietly.

Emily flipped a few pages in a heated search for the desired entry date, suddenly she stopped, "Yea, right here."

"Read it to me?" pouted the older sister, Emily hated how her sister knew how much of a push over she was for 'the pout'. Sighing agitatedly, she began.

"_September 24th, 1991_

_Today is a grave day indeed, I've been blessed with these two young angels for near three years now…but now, they're leaving in the morning. I have to accept this, it's in their best interests, this isn't my area of expertise… what could I possibly do? If I tried, it would get so bad for her, the visions just might kill her. Then where would I be? Where would _Emily_ be? A human shell; completely alone in the world… save for an old priest/uncle. But how could an old, aging _priest_ replace the loving older sister who has always looked out for her? I can't._

_Nadia had her first vision today, she has abilities. It had been after _her_ the night it took their parents, It had tried to baptize little Nadia in her parents blood that night, and Emily saved her from it. They were in the cemetery this afternoon, I had just left the church when Em came blazing towards me, tears soaking her little face. Her voice was hoarse from having screamed something over and over again since leaving her sister's side, **'Help, Uncle Jim, help… Nadia needs help!'** even after I picked her up and asked her what was wrong, all she could say was the same thing she had been crying over and over. It took us a while to finally locate Nadia, but when we did…God help her, the poor thing was on the ground, little body stretched and tense as if she were being exorcized, all with her hands pressing harshly on either side of her head, screaming through gritted teeth in anguish. I'd never felt so helpless, and I'm sure, neither had the girls._" She'd become so enveloped by the entry that she hadn't even noticed Nadia had pulled the car over onto the shoulder of the lonely road, cheeks drenched by tears; she remembered that first vision all too clearly, she remembered the pain, the fear, not knowing if she could possibly survive the attack her mind had dealt. Flashes returned to her, flashes of the sky… it had never seemed so blue, so beautiful; she remembered thinking how beautiful things must be right before you die. There had been multiple voices torturing her mind; the frightened voice of her sister screaming for her, the scared yet ever calm voice of her uncle, and… the voices of people that weren't even there. Her mind wandered back to what had occurred during that first vision:

'**We're damned, sweetheart, we were never meant to love… no-one can love us without getting hurt; and anyone who is burdened with mine… they DIE, darling.' The woman's voice had said, she saw a flash of a face very similar to her own, she was very young, possibly her present age, but there was an indescribable pain in her deep distraught eyes; a lifetime of pain and loneliness shone hand in hand with the legacy of doom she knew too well had marked her family for nearly two hundred years.**

'**No, no… the normal people that love us may be damned, but each other? We're immune to our own curses, can't you see that? Stay with me, avenge your sister by my side, as I avenge my mother and… _together_, together we're invincible!' She'd seen the man's face before… somewhere; she was confident she knew it, but couldn't quite place _where_. **

**Another flash, the man lay on the ground dead, and the woman, she could hear her cry bitterly. 'I _told_ you,' she sobbed wickedly, 'I _told_ you we were damned, and now look at what's happened to you, because of me. You were all I had left, damnit! The last of my line, and I'm alone, I've lost you… I have no heir to pass the burden to. I refuse to make another child suffer the way I—we have.' Before Nadia could cry out for the woman to stop, there was a bang and all went white; and like before, the vision died with the woman.**

"_Nadia_!" her sister's voice cried, much like she had all those years ago. She couldn't help but cringe at the mention of her name, it was loud and the volume hurt her ears. She felt herself scream in agony, but no sound came to her ears. _What's happening to me!_ "Nadia… Dia! Talk to me, sis! Say something… anything!"

Then, as if it had never happened to begin with, the pain was gone.

"Something… anything…" She said as calmly as she'd ever said anything in her life. She looked at her sister, she looked mortified but it quickly melted into relief. "What happened? Was that the end of the entry?"

"WHAT! You freak the fuck out, cry something in some language I've never heard of, and then go back to being your usual cold-ass self and you want me to finish reading what could have very well CAUSED whatever the fuck just happened?" Emily screeched incredulously, her heart hammering in her throat, nausea threatening to make an ugly scene, chest constricting painfully. Emily was utterly baffled and flustered. Nadia simply tilted her head and smiled sadly in reaction.

"Sweet baby sister; you shouldn't worry about me like this, life's too fleeting for constant worry. I'm alright, that's the important thing… right?" Emily shook her head disbelievingly, blinking away some of her shock and yanked the car keys from the ignition. Even as the words left Nadia's mouth, she felt a bit confused. _What the f... that doesn't sound like me._

"Get out!" She cried, "I'm driving; we're about an hour from the Kansas border, Missouri'll forgive us if we're not ridiculously early." The driver clamored clumsily from the car at her sister's tone.

"Alright, alright… geez, if it'll get you to quit yelling, _fine_! Jesus tap-dancing Christ… you're no help to people with headaches, are you?" grumbled the disoriented huntress as she stalked around the car.

"_There's_ the sister I know and love… what the hell happened, anyway?" Emily demanded as she twisted to face her sister, fiddling with the car keys in her hands. Nadia simply sat in the passenger seat, eyes forward, face blank, but both knew she was struggling for words to describe what had happened.

"It's not a common thing to have a vision come back to you _years_ after the last time it strikes; damn near impossible, actually. From what I gather… that's exactly what just happened, my very first vision—complete with pain and foreign cries—just came back to bite me in the ass. I wonder," she murmured as she began to flip through the book Emily had dropped carelessly to the floor minutes ago, "if Jim ever did translate what I screamed, like he said he would…" Emily forced herself to turn back to the road, restart the car and begin driving off.

"Well, you look, and if you don't find anything… we are going to Moseley's, I'm sure she'll be able to help. But, personally, I think you should try to sleep for a bit." She stated concern clear in her voice. Nadia wasn't deterred in the slightest, though; by appearances… she hadn't even listened to a word her sister had said. "Dia…"

"Yea, uh-huh, right… sleep, gotcha." She said with her head bent over the journal. A few minutes later, she found exactly what she was looking for, and the words left her speechless; for the very first time in all of Nadia's 26 years… she didn't know what to say. So she didn't, instead she put the book down and bade herself to fall into the merciful depths of sleep… with the translation blaring in her mind.

**It was a warning, Nadia, 15 years before hand. It goes as followed: when the time comes, of the two heiresses, one will die and the last will take her place as the love and living armory to the rightful owner of her family's gun. Together, they are the light's last hope.**

_Man, this just keeps getting better and better._ She thought cynically as the 'Lawrence 3 miles' sign zoomed by, seconds later, her eyes were shut while she dreamed.

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**So that was chapter four. Thanks, IHeartJensen, for the review. Since I've had a lot of time to do nothing but write... I think I'll go ahead and post the chapters I've got finished along with this one... see the little purple button below this? That thing is awesome, it sends me encouragement. Haha, alright, more coming...**


	5. Story Time at Ms Moseley's

**Disclaimer: The usual, they own my soul more than I could ever own anything concerning the show... oh, and, most importantly... no animals--ducks especially--were harmed in the writing of this chapter... Enjoy.**

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The rest of the trip was quiet and uneventful, which made Emily very happy. She hated the drama that always came in bulk when a vision was afoot; sighing as quietly as she could, she pulled into a very familiar neighborhood and stole a brief glance at the clock… 3:52. _Nadia, love you, really I do, but you need to learn how to slow the fuck down!_ She thought lovingly, letting her sights wander to the sleeping woman next to her as she stalled at a stop sign. "Nadia… hey, we're here." She coaxed; her sister sluggishly opened her eyes, lifted her arms up and stretched… nearly hitting the driver in the face, but luckily, Emily saw the arm approaching her head and moved out of the way quickly. "Son of a bitch, you almost hit me… ass!" 

Nadia chuckled teasingly, still half asleep, "Maybe you need to watch where your face is, probably wouldn't get into half as much trouble if you did..." She said sardonically, "Duck fucker."

The driver paled as her jaw dropped in mock hurt. _How is it that now matter how hard I try, she always ends up with the better comeback!_

"Because I'm just creative like that… besides, over the past few years I've seen some pretty interesting and creatively inspiring things while on the road. I've got more material to work with, simple as that." The 26 year old explained absently, not even really realizing that she'd read her sister's thoughts.

"Are you reading my mind again?" Emily huffed, turning another corner.

"Huh?" the passenger stated, then realized she hadn't had the opportunity to do that in nearly a decade, she'd almost forgotten how funny it was when her sister got angry at her for reading her. "Oops, sorry… it's been a while, ya know, slips are bound to happen."

"Eh, whatever." Came the deadpanned reply. They were two blocks from Missouri's, so they might as well drop the subject before the both became victims of the old wooden spoon. As if her sister had read her mind again, the elder huntress shuddered noticeably.

Pulling up into the familiar driveway, Nadia snatched the journal from the floor, holding it close to her as she bolted from the car. Missouri stood at the door waiting patiently, expectantly, for the girls.

"My darling girls, it's _so_ good to see the two of you together again. Come here Emily; let me get a good look at the two of you together." She called sweetly to the slower of the sisters. "What have you got there, Nadia?... the Pastor's journal, that old fool, let me guess; he still writes in that thing… but if he did, why do you have it now?"

Nadia's elated smile faded almost immediately, "You haven't heard, Missouri?"

"No… what happened to the old poop?"

"He, uh, he died… about three months ago." She murmured quietly, staring somberly at her own feet. When she looked up she watched as the older psychic searched her eyes, reading the thoughts that dwell within her mind concerning the cleric.

"Oh my… well, you girls were right to come here. It's much safer here than the places you tend to find yourself in, young lady. I've been meaning to contact your sister and find out how she's been doing, anyway… so yes, it's very good you came." She said, clasping Nadia's hands, she felt the power surging in the girl's veins; she hadn't thought it possible, but Nadia had become even more powerful than she was the last time she saw her a few months ago. "Emily Elizabeth, don't worry about your bags, we can get to them later. Come inside and talk to this old fart!"

Laughing, Nadia hugged her surrogate mother, and walked with her inside the house as her sister sprinted to catch up. "You haven't changed a bit, have you?" she giggled at the Missouri's eccentric shake of her head, "I've got a few questions for you… concerning some rather odd visions I've had recently."

"I know, we'll talk about that later… ok?" she cooed while brushing a stray hair from Nadia's face, "So lovely, you girls, ever since you were tiny little things… so much of your mother's fire in the both of you. You get your charming Spanish qualities from your father, though."

"Dad was a Spaniard?" Emily asked as she approached the two.

"His mother was, your granddaddy used to gloat about how he'd stolen the heart of the most beautiful girl in the whole of Spain; and your father's thoughts often wandered back to his daddy's stories when he looked at you girls." She smiled, remembering the visits where their parents would bring them to visit her. She had picked up on Nadia's powers, dormant at the time, the day she was brought to Missouri's home while Julianna went into labor with Emily. "Yes, he always said you two were the spittin' image of his mother."

Emily stood glaring at the floor for a moment before speaking up, it was time for business, "Yea, I'd hate to interrupt story time. But, you've dragged me away from my well earned normal life for something 'big' and now I'd like to know what."

Her accusatory tone agitated both women, yet neither showed any signs; Missouri began picking at her sweater while Nadia casually looked about the parlor room.

"Well, you know about the record human possession so far, won't need to repeat that… um, shit-storm's a-brewin', sweetheart." She said before becoming frighteningly serious, "_The_ Demon… has declared war on any and all demon hunters in the country. As far as my sources know… it hasn't spread beyond the borders of the US just yet, but it's only a matter of time."

"Why now? Why not when he couldn't get you 18 years ago?" Emily asked.

"Oh, it's not about the children he's failed to acquire for his sick collection… the weapon has surfaced." She added hesitantly.

"The… OH, _that_ weapon. Who had it?"

"It had the perfect keeper under the radar… a _vampire_ hunter in Colorado; Daniel Elkins, remember him?" she asked, her left hand rubbing the back of her neck stiffly, observing her sisters reaction with weary eyes.

"Yea, he had come to Jim a few times for supplies and such. Really quiet guy… humorously paranoid… I remember he was _petrified_ of you." Emily affirmed with a mischievous grin, "One time, while we were playing hide and seek, I was hiding in the church—near where they were talking—and I over heard him say _why_ he was scared of you."

Nadia let out a mock-peeved scoff, and rolled her eyes sarcastically, chortled and shrugged; she couldn't help it if she came off as creepy to some people. "What was his reason?"

"He said that you were either a witch or some kind of demon child," she paused when Nadia let out a surprised cackle, even Missouri's demeanor lightened some, "he kept trying to convince Jim that he needed to be careful with you… you might one day just surprise the hell out of us and turn evil… bringing the world to it's knees in your malevolent wake."

"Wow," she said amid a stream of silent laughter, "Daniel Elkins… _what a character_!" She cried heartily, reminding Missouri and her little sister just how cynically humored and animated she was.

"Anyway, what happened to him?" Emily wanted to get back to business and she knew that not everything that needed to be said had been.

"Oh, well, one night… four months ago, I think, maybe five… anyway, some vampires he'd hunted a long ass time ago picked up his trail and killed him. They found and took the weapon, some friends of Elkins' hunted said vamps down, killed them and took the weapon. After they started to use it, _It_ found out, sent his children to take care of the hunters and from what I've heard; they failed, the hunters still have it and can only use it one more time before it's rendered completely useless. Unless… that is, we help'em out." She smiled knowingly at Emily, who looked a bit confused, as did their hostess.

"How?" Missouri asked, Emily's expression said the same; Nadia rolled her eyes.

"The story…the one mom and dad used to tell us when they taught us how to make bullets?" the huntress hoped that knocked her siblings memory into working order.

"The one about Samuel Colt?" she offered disbelievingly.

While the elder of the sisters nodded her head, Missouri became more and more curious as well as flustered for not knowing what the hell they were talking about.

"How does this story go?" Nadia couldn't help but be alarmed at how their surrogate mother was on the verge of exploding with curiosity.

"Very long story, but I'll give ya the cliff notes version: Sam Colt made a special gun, year before the battle of the Alamo, a gun that could kill anything supernatural, he made it with 13 bullets. He used about half of the bullets before he died, the gun disappeared around the time of his death… that's the part of the story that almost every hunter knows, but it's not all…" Emily explained as simply as she could, then Nadia intervened.

"Before he died, Colt told his son, Caldwell Hart Colt, about the gun and how his family would forever be tied to it. He told him that only _his_ descendents could make more bullets for the special six-shooter; ordinary bullets pretty much, but I don't know… there's something special about his descendents method of making bullets—or something like that, I always get mixed up at this part. Anyway, so, Caldwell had three sons, three heirs, and all hunters like us. Out of the three only _one_ produced an heir and this pattern continued, all heirs died young and if they had more than one kid only one of them would produce the next Colt heir."

"Now, evil things would—because they're pretty stupid—go after anyone by the name of 'Colt' and kill them in hopes of ending the line. But Caldwell was smarter than that; after their birth, he legally changed his son's last names to 'Coltier'." Emily said pointedly, a smug look on her face as Nadia took over.

"Over time, the Coltier heirs were men, and their wives didn't know they were hunters or anything like that… until about, oh, 1977? When our parents met, mom was the first huntress to become involved with our family, gifted, like me." She stated proudly, "and out of all that, Emily and I are the first and only girls to come of the line; we'll be the first to actually aid the present owner of the gun, or possibly even wield it ourselves. No Coltier has seen the gun since Samuel's death in 1862." Both girls seemed quite satisfied with themselves for being able to recite the story; they knew their parents would be proud. But secretly, Emily smiled for a different reason.

"Who knows, we might actually have the chance to break the tradition in more ways that just helping supply bullets for the Colt."

"Well, Hell's bells! That's quite a story, I didn't know anything about this gun… but then again, I'm no huntress like the two of you. It all makes sense now… your last name, whenever you girls say it… it sounds as if you were always saying 'Colt heir'. Oh, good… dinner's ready." She spouted as she got up and hurried into the kitchen. The girls watched curiously as she left, they hadn't heard any indication that something was done cooking… then there was the beep.

Dinner was uncharacteristically quite, everyone was quietly lost in thought, reflecting over each of their deepest secrets. Afterwards, the girls retrieved their things from the Camaro and settled themselves in their old rooms; which, much to the girls shock, looked exactly the same as they had when they had last left. While, downstairs, Missouri drank her herbal tea and quietly read through parts of Jim's journal on the girls. Some entries made her smile in remembrance of happier times; others made her frown in concern and the rest made her want to cry and kick a puppy.

The old psychic was still up late that night when Nadia stumbled her way into the kitchen. She wasn't too tired, but she was hungry, and still needed to have that chat with Missouri. Stalling in the doorway to the kitchen, she knocked on the doorframe to make her presence known.

"Child, you don't have to knock; I sensed your presence when you snuck out of your room." She declared without looking up from the journal; Nadia bobbed her head for a moment before wandering over to the cupboard to acquire a cup, thankful that her mentor had a fresh pot of coffee going. "So tell me about these visions you've been having…"

"They're… I don't know; odd? Before we left Jefferson early this morning, I had a vision about sitting here with Emily when some young men came to the house. Friends of yours I think, and you said I was going to help one of the men work on his abilities and his control over them. But the vision hurt, and the dialogue was choppy… that hasn't happened since I started having the damn things." She recanted awkwardly, struggling to describe them appropriately.

"And the other… same thing… same message?" the stout woman finally looked up after Nadia settled down in a chair across the dining table from her; she focused her eyes on the cup, cradled in her hands. "Child, have some coffee with your cream and sugar! You haven't changed a _bit_!"

Nadia laughed distantly, remembering the images she saw on the road just hours before. "According to the other vision… I will, _greatly_… and not in a good way, nor in an evil way. But…I'll be different."

"You're scared of becoming what you foresaw." The girl nodded, staring off into nothing. "According to this journal… you've already begun this change that you fear. Initially it began when your parents died, but this change strengthened when you received your first vision. He wrote in here that you refused to talk about what you saw, that you would withdraw into the depths of your mind and shut everybody—including Emily—out; and became cold, sometimes unfeeling altogether."

Nadia thought back on her years and was startled to see that it was true, terror worked its way into her, and she stared at the older woman with fear lashing out from her dark eyes. "Does that mean I will become that… shell of a person? She was just so pitifully and depressingly empty and the man…" she continued, still afraid, but signs of a hopeful smile began to appear on her lips, "Oh, he loved her, and she tortured him with it… saying how they were both doomed because they were both a curse to anyone who might love them. But if he was right, and they were both cursed, that would negate it… wouldn't it?"

Missouri grabbed her hand as a gesture of comfort, smiling sadly; she let the girl retell the vision to her, knowing full well that she had been revisited by her very first vision. "Of course, baby."

"Then the way it ended was all wrong." She surmised.

"What happened… to this couple?" she felt the need to press the matter, Nadia had kept the information locked away in her head for far too long; sometimes secrets were best unkept.

"He died, causing her to go mad… convinced he had been wrong about their curses, she said she was alone in the world now; but she was kind of glad to be, she didn't want for there to be another child in the world to suffer the way she had… then… she killed herself." Returning her gaze to nothingness as she retrieved the information from her mind, when the description ended, her attention snapped back to the present, the here and now. "And then it was over. Emily said in the midst of it all I screamed something completely foreign to her."

"Hmm, I'll have to ask her about it in the morning." She said, getting up to make more tea for herself, but she stopped three steps from her seat, pivoting she snatched Nadia's mug to get her more coffee as well. The generous gesture didn't go unnoticed by the huntress, and she knew Missouri was well aware of her gratitude… she didn't need words. While Missouri bustled about fixing their drinks, Nadia found herself tracing the wood pattern of the table with her fingertips.

"What do you think it means?" she asked suddenly, shattering the soothing silence that had wrapped its lulling warmth around both women. Missouri paused from pouring the coffee, stiffening at the naked vulnerability in her voice; she could feel the young psychic's abilities reaching out and begging her to give the girl hope, comfort, to instill the idea of success in her heart.

"It means," she began while tip toeing back to the table, mugs in tow, "very soon, anywhere from… tomorrow to, I don't know… you are going to need to be as strong as you've ever been, and not just for you… not just for your sister… but for those who you stare possible death in the face for; for those who need your help. A lot is going to be asked of you in the near future, and you need to be ready to tackle any and all obstacles. Never give in, never give up."

For a few minutes Nadia sat and thought about Missouri's interpretation. Biting her lip, she finally began to believe it, "Yea… you're right, I mean, this war… its _war_, ha, we've been trained for it our entire lives… and here it is. If I were to let myself turn into that… woman I saw in the visions; I'd be forfeiting everything so many people died for. I'd be letting evil win… that can't happen. Thanks, Missouri… for everything."

She stood up, went over to the woman and hugged her. It irked the old psychic, the embrace, the thank you, it all seemed so final… and it annoyed her.

"Is that coffee I smell?" Emily said from the doorway, catching Nadia and Missouri off guard, they'd been so wrapped up in their discussion that they hadn't even noticed the girl come into the kitchen. "You're damn lucky you had that little recorder in your glove box, Dia. Otherwise there'd be no way of finding out what the hell you were screaming."

She held up the small device, pressed down on one of the buttons and came to life. Almost immediately they were assaulted by the sounds of Emily panicking, and Nadia's pained foreign screams and labored breathing. Nadia sat back down, mentally analyzing what she was hearing; when it was turned off her head shot up, determination in the huntresses chocolate orbs.

"Oh my god," she murmured, both psychic and sister turned their attention to her as she jumped from her seat. "I know that language… not fluently, but I know it… shit, I've got work to do!"

Missouri sat quietly, watching the girl rush around and begin to leave the room. Emily on the other hand, didn't like being left in the cold, not one bit; so she fought it.

"What is it, Nadia? What in the _hell_ does it mean?" She demanded her voice forceful. "Damnit, _talk _to me!"

Her arm snapped out, grabbing her sisters, wrenching her around to stare her in the face. Nadia could see that in order to keep Emily from running back to her old life she'd need to be open, about everything; upfront at every moment. Yanking her arm from Emily's grasp, she huffed threateningly before giving any indication that she was about to give her an answer.

"Aztec… the language is Aztec." Her sister seemed befuddled by Nadia's words, so she elaborated. "I know… we're not Aztec, it's not in our blood. But who conquered the Aztec's? Spanish conquistadors… and as Missouri informed us earlier… we're Spanish. Which means that, yes, our family did have something to do with the Aztecs… I don't know how I know… but something tells me that they pre-programmed some kind of forewarning into our family; about this war that is now happening, they're trying to warn us." She fumed, and in giving the women looking at her one more exasperated glance, she ran up to her room, locked the door and started up her laptop.

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**Oooh, the plot thickens! Got questions?... I got answers, send'em to me as a review. More is revealed, more confusion will be dealt, and more interesting little facts will be presented in... the next chapter! **


	6. NahuaWhat?

The sun had come back up hours ago, and Nadia was still hunched over on her bed, laptop in front of her, googling the hell out of the Aztec language. Her eyes were heavy and weariness had set in an hour or so into her search; pausing she rubbed at her tired eyes with the heels of her palms. Sensing someone approaching her door, her head shot up simultaneously with the soft knock. "Nadia, baby, its Missouri… I brought you some coffee and some fruit," the elderly psychic cooed lovingly through the door, "Oh, and you forgot to acquire the recorder from your sister before you locked yourself in there… I figured it might be a helpful thing to—"

Nadia leapt up from her spot on her bed and nearly ripped the door off its hinges; revealing a slightly startled Missouri Moseley. Nadia smiled apologetically, motioning to the woman to enter, she could use some supportive company. Any other time she would have preferred it be Emily, but under the circumstances, her little sister would do nothing but nag and bitch while she attempted to find some kind of answer. She knew Missouri wouldn't do that however, she knew Nadia needed reassurance, not annoyance.

"How is your search going?" the little black woman asked, slowly easing her way into helping the girl properly. Nadia exhaled an exhausted breath, her eyes screaming frustration.

"Very little… without the recorder, you were right about that," pausing so she could steal a chunk of Pineapple, "But… I was able to figure out a bit of what I'll be dealing with in the translation." She said, eyes glittering contently; they began to shine brighter when she felt the pride roll off Missouri in waves.

"You've been trained well, miss Coltier; I'm more than certain your previous teachers are more than proud of you. I knew since the moment I first laid eyes on you… it ain't in you to disappoint!" she said excitedly, feeling her eyes water up a bit. "Now what have you got so far?"

Nadia returned her gaze to her laptop briefly, smiling all the while, "Okay, well, the language is Classical Nahuatl, spoken in Central America in the time before as well as during the Spanish Conquest of Mexico. These days it's considered an extinct language, but some of it survives in literature and a watered down, mostly Spanish version of the language is still around today. It's been more or less a dead language since the 15th century, so there's no possible way mom or dad could have taught it to us; so I'm sticking with my theory that someone in dad's family had some dealings with Aztec's forever and a day ago… now, if I can only find a site that can help me translate it…"

Missouri smiled knowingly, her thoughts were warm and heartfelt, coming from her heart she protected them from being overheard by the young huntress… she was already busy trying to piece together her destiny. _My, my, my…Nick, Julianna; you're daughter is as talented, powerful and brilliant as she is beautiful. I know you're just as proud of her as I am. She's doing so well with figuring this out on her own; she might be upset if she knew that the three of us already knew how the girls are connected to the Aztec's._

"Well, honey, I'm going to leave you to your work. I brought you a carafe of hot coffee, just the way you like it… too much sugar and cream. I swear girl, you're already sweet as they come… this stuff is just a plea for cavities!" She laughed inwardly when she saw the tell-tale roll of Nadia's eyes, "and some fruit, which you've obviously already found. If you find you need anything else, you know where to find me. Don't hesitate to interrupt readings when you figure it all out, okay?"

The girl paused from her rabid typing, her face concentrating on the screen, then she turned her face upwards, concern shone in her soul's windows. Before Missouri knew what happened, the girl was on her feet enveloping her in a heartfelt embrace with her head lying on Missouri's shoulder like a sleeping toddler. "Thank you, Missouri… for everything," Pulling back, her surrogate mother was startled to see Nadia's eyes sparkling with tears of gratitude, her emotions almost crushing in their legitimacy, "I don't know where I'd be without your help."

Missouri's breathing hitched as the girl's voice broke. She might not have been their birth mother, but they were like the daughters she never had, and she'd never been so proud to be the one to help raise them. But instead of admitting this, she smiled coolly at the oldest Coltier, "Oh, I'm sure you would have gotten the gist of it eventually. Unlike some hunters I know… stupid isn't in your blood, neither is helplessness. Now, I'll leave you to your work, good luck sweetheart."

Nadia stood in the middle of her room, watching Missouri walk out the door, leaving her with high hopes for herself, for her future. But she knew, she was well aware that the woman who had long been a mother to her knew more than she was saying. Though she understood, she had long since stopped learning, her training had been completed years ago; but the fortune teller would always be keeping her on her toes, always making sure that the huntress did everything she could to figure anything and everything out on her own. She would help sometimes, but only when the situation called for it. Shaking her head, she treated herself to a few minutes of resting with a coffee mug in one hand, and the other with at least two or three chunks of fruit dripping stickiness on her other hand.

Hours later, the huntress flew down the winding stairs to the first floor of the house, a piece of paper flapping in her hand; nearly ramming into her sister as she was leading a young woman about their age—maybe a little younger—to the parlor where Missouri waited to give the young woman a reading. Emily's arm shot out and nearly tossed her sister backwards when Nadia's shirt went taut in her grip.

"Slow down there, where's the fire?" Emily inquired, eyeing her disapprovingly. The young woman with her grinned sympathetically, thinking how embarrassed she'd be if someone had to grab at her shirt to stall her if she was in a hurry to go somewhere important. It was when she stopped that Nadia got a good look at the young lady; she couldn't have been much older than 23; about Emily's height, she had the face of a model, sparkling hazel eyes and long dark brown hair. She seemed sweet, making Nadia suspicious as to what she needed a fortune teller for; the girl could obviously get the world gift wrapped with just one smile.

"Hi, I'm Sarah Blake, are you Miss Moseley?" She asked ecstatically, extending her hand to greet her warmly.

"Uh, no, but I'm heading to go speak with her for a minute… Em, I'll take her to the parlor room if it's cool with you?" Emily shrugged and walked back to the kitchen where she had left Uncle Jim's journal. Nadia and Sarah watched as the youngest of the sisters walked off tiredly.

"Sorry about that, I'm afraid she's pissed at me for something. I'm Nadia Coltier; Emily's my little sister."

"Really? I thought she seemed more concerned about you than angry." Sarah interjected; watching after Emily had disappeared into the confines of the kitchen, "How long have you and your sister worked for Miss Moseley?"

Nadia's stride stopped at the question, she stared down the hallway for a moment before turning to the young woman. "We don't necessarily work for her; we were sent here to Lawrence when I got my first vision, our uncle didn't know how to handle it, or how to help me, so he sent us here. She taught me to control my abilities, helped me grow—personality wise—where our uncle couldn't. I was 11 at the time."

"He turned the two of you away because he didn't know what to do?" she asked incredulously.

"I always thought he handled it pretty well for a priest; no shouts of 'Oh the blasphemy!' or 'Out, devil child!'… Nothing like that; just, the calm 'I can't help you, I can't ease the pain of it… but I'll show you the way to someone who can.' He was a good man." She said sadly, wanting to run from the conversation, cursing herself when she felt the hot tears burning her eyes.

"Wow, what's his name?" Nadia had been shocked at how understanding and open-minded this Sarah person was being. Sneaking a rather unfair peak at her thoughts, Nadia was thrown off a bit by the girl's motive; it was screaming loud and clear at the surface of her thoughts: _Sam, I have to find out if Sam's alright… something feels wrong_.

"His name? His name was Pastor Jim Murphy, my mom's big brother." She said, smiling at the thought of her mother and Jim, her eyes burning brighter with more tears and loving memories of the two family members.

"Pastor Jim Murphy… Pastor Jim… I've heard that name before…I just can't remember _where_." She mused shifting all her weight to one foot, sticking the opposite in front of her, arms crossed over her stomach.

"Are you from Blue Earth, Minnesota?"

"No, upstate New York; a…friend of mine is from these parts, I was hoping to… find out how he's doing." She admitted as Nadia motioned for Sarah to follow her and continued walking down the hallway.

"Oh, what's his name? Perhaps I know him." She asked, making small talk, getting the desired info.

"Sam Winchester; he's a, uh…" She bit her lip in hesitation, then shook her head, deciding to trust in the young woman, "I know Missouri's friends with him as well, and you're practically her family, I don't see why I can't trust you… Sam's a demon hunter."

Nadia feigned shock and surprise, letting her head bob a little bit, encouraging the younger girl to continue. She'd fooled countless others into spilling their darkest secrets; this girl would be no problem at all. Tilting her head slightly, she grinned cockily, noticing how Sarah eased in reaction to her body language. _Hook, line and sinker… works every time._

"He and his brother, Dean, go around the country fighting the supernatural… the evil of it, I mean. I've seen them do it myself, when I first met them… long story, but they saved my father's auction business; we had a murderous, haunted painting… they destroyed it before it could hurt more people than it already had… it nearly got me…" She recanted, smiling as she thought back on the heroic hunters, too lost in memory lane to notice how closely Nadia was studying her, her mind and her intentions.

"…You love him; that's why you're worried. Demon hunting is quite a dangerous gig, I'm not going to lie about it, and you did say you've seen them work firsthand. Have you tried calling…Sam, was it?" She said thoughtfully, knowing full well what Sarah came for was not something Missouri could help with. If she hadn't met her a few minutes earlier, and known better, she would have mistaken Sarah's deep blushing for make up over kill. The flush and bursting of color in her cheeks touched the huntress, she had no idea what that was like; feeling so strongly for a guy. The idea was foreign to her… mostly.

"I don't know… I mean, I guess…" she stammered, Nadia almost giggled at how her show of emotion; it was cute.

"You do; it's nothing to be ashamed of, and it's really something when you're aware of the danger he's constantly surrounded in, the danger that might lash out at you in order to weaken him…but you don't let that deter you. That's actually quite admirable, if you ask me." She said, her conscience finally winning the battle against her curiosity, rolling her eyes a bit, she leaned forward and whispered to the girl, "Listen… I'm going to be honest. Missouri Moseley is a powerful psychic and fortune teller, hell, she taught me how to control the basics of my powers… that really helped when the rest of them began popping up, let me tell you. Anyway, she can read surface thoughts, make a guess that is correct… 80 of the time; but what you're looking for, she won't be able to help you. When people come to her with questions that she can't help with, she doesn't turn them away; she'll just tell you what you _want_ to hear. My point is, she might not be able to help you, but you've come a long way… and I _can_ help you."

Sarah's face fell a little bit when Nadia told her Missouri couldn't help, but her hope was returned to full blast when she offered her assistance instead. The gratitude that exuded from the New Yorker was fairly intense, Nadia felt compelled to shield her third eye from its magnitude. _Here goes my non-hunting good deed of the week._

"You would do that? For me? How much would I owe you?" she asked, money didn't seem to be an option for this chick, which caused Nadia to be slightly taken aback.

"Huh? Nah, I'm no fortune teller, I don't charge. Money might not be an option, but it's also not a necessity." She said, waving off the monetary suggestion. She began walking towards the kitchen, motioning for the girl to follow, "Here's what's going to go down: I'm going to go run in there, discuss some family related stuff with Missouri, then get her next reading in to that parlor… after which, I'll meet you outside in the back and we'll answer any question that comes to mind, okay? I need a smoke break anyhow…"

The girl giggled lightly as she followed the huntress into the kitchen. Greeting the younger of the Coltier girls when she noticed her sitting at the table hunched over some kind of book.

"Back door is just past Emily, it'll just take a minute or two." Emily gave her sister a questioning gaze with her head cocked slightly. Nadia just focused her gaze on her sister and let Emily hear her thoughts clearly in the privacy of her own mind. _I'm helping her out, Missouri won't be able to give her a direct answer…and I've got my ramblings translated._

The girl's eyes widened, eyebrows threatening to punch at her hairline. Emily jumped from her chair, abandoning the journal at the table and followed close behind her sister to the little parlor. Missouri glanced up from one of the sofas and smiled pleasantly at the sisters. "My little detective, did you crack the case, Nadia?"

Nadia chortled as she plopped down on the couch, landing cross-legged. Emily stretched her tired muscles before gently lowering herself to sit next to her sister, as Missouri stood Nadia handed her the piece of paper she'd been holding. Emily and the girl's guardian waited apprehensively in reaction to the girl's satisfied, yet bothered expression.

"You read the translation from what I said in my first vision, yes?" She asked, waiting for the reply and only continuing when she saw Missouri and her sister nod, "Okay, well, I was able to translate this one, and it's fairly similar to the other one; that one eluded to one or two of the happenings _leading_ to my destiny, talking about things that _will eventually_ happen. This one speaks of what has happened, what is now currently in motion..."

Missouri gave her a suspicious look as she eyed the paper Nadia handed to her; word for word it was the Nahuatl form of what she had screamed in writing, along with some words and scribbles scratched into the sheet surrounding it, some theories were scratched out entirely. The psychic looked at Nadia with confusion, "Okay, did you find out what you said _this_ time?"

"Yea," She said as she scrubbed a hand over her weary face before continuing, "_In chia teoyohtica ce cah huitz… Ichpocatl cah ahcic, tlacame… Ceccan yehhuan mictizqueh; in tlicui zan teotlahtolli ahcic cah peuh. _Which, roughly translated, means: 'The awaited holy one has come… She has found them, and it… together they will destroy It; they, the lights only hope… it has begun.' I'm getting the feeling the final throw down will be happening sometime soon."

Missouri shivered as she saw the acceptance and determination in Nadia, heard it in her voice; then she realized what all was supposed to happen for this to all go according to plan. She tried digging a bit deeper into Nadia's psyche, searching for pain, despair, defiance, anything the girl might usually do when it came to matters of life and death; nothing. "Aren't you scared? Afraid for yourself, for your sister… for having to face the thing that's haunted you since the day you were born?" she yelled, demanding some human emotion from the girl; but she was the same cold person she'd been the day Nadia and Emily came into her life.

"Of course I am; I don't want to lose her, Missouri, and you know I'd do anything to protect her. This doesn't change a damn thing about me, I'll still fight tooth and nail for what's left of my family… but if something should happen that's out of my control… I know that there would be nothing I could have possibly done." She said quietly, suddenly unable to face neither her guardian or her sibling, "When it happens, the weight of keeping the Coltier line going will be on me; but I'll be strong about it, I won't fail… can't. Besides, I'd be letting anybody who ever counted on me down if I didn't fight with every ounce of strength… it'd be going against my training. You know I don't do that shit."

"You're right, sweetie… you _don't_ do that _crap._" She corrected.

Nadia yawned, it had been a long night and she needed to sleep, but the stress of the situation was getting to her. Addictions beckoned her strongly; sleep only tugged irritatingly at the edges of her weary mind. Popping her neck, she made her way to the door. "Hey Em, if you're done with you're break… I'm going to go smoke and relax for a bit, then I think I'm going to go crash for a while…"

Emily nodded; she knew how hard her sister worked on translating the information, how much energy the situation was sucking out of Nadia. The psychic calmed herself, remembering that she _had _worked through the night translating that thing… more than likely, hopefully, without a cigarette break; she knew she hadn't left her room, much less the house, until she had come to the parlor to speak with her… and she did not condone smoking in the bedrooms. After Nadia left, she plopped herself down on one of the couches and sighed, stealing a sidelong glance at Emily, "What on earth am I going to do with you girls…"

* * *

Nadia padded slowly and quietly through to the kitchen to meet Sarah; images of Aztecs, their pyramid's and sacrifices filled her head, but she mentally pushed them away as she rubbed her eyes, dismissing them as a sign of her exhaustion… she had, after all, been pouring over everything Aztec for the past eight or so hours. Before reaching the door, she snatched her pack and lighter from the counter beside the door and walked clumsily outside. Sarah sat on the bench swing waiting patiently, and greeting the gifted huntress happily when she emerged from the house. Nadia nodded with a content grin as she plucked out a single cigarette and lit it; in exhaling the first drag she turned from looking at the backyard to the girl on the bench.

"Now, what is it that you would like to know?" she said, and as Sarah opened her mouth to speak, Nadia felt a spark of pain flash briefly between her eyes. Cringing she turned her head sharply one degree from where she had been looking.

"Are you okay?" Sarah asked, her tone sounded greatly concerned; Nadia took another drag, this time deep, hoping the nicotine might loosen the tension that was growing at an alarming rate in her head. Another flash afflicted her and she saw the image of an Aztec witchdoctor of some sort, it flickered and was gone before she could get a good look.

"I…" Another tinge of pain, she groaned, her hands reached for her forehead and pressed against her aching head. She saw the old man again; he motioned to her, smiling. Panic began to take hold as the flickering images of the man began to coincide with the now flickering view of Sarah getting up and rushing to her aid. Before the sight of the Aztec man took over completely, she saw her cigarette drop in slow motion to the ground.

"Hello, conetlicui; it's about time we spoke." He said, Nadia froze at how broken and terrible his English was. She knew she should be scared, should be defending herself… but something about the man was comforting and disarming.

"Who are you, and where the hell am I?" She demanded softly, cautiously; they seemed to be in old and forgotten caves somewhere. "Why are you calling me that?"

"Worry not, you are safe here. And you're Nahuatl is just as poor as my English, but in the depths of our minds, we hear ourselves in the languages we speak best, and hear others as in the same language… only, they speak it as they would if they were just learning it. I call you that… because that is what you are." His words echoed in her ears, her mind frantically going over her 20 plus years of training, desperately searching for how she should feel about being in her present situation and how to get out of it. All that was coming to her was the need to relax screaming from every inch of her body.

"Well, if we're here to talk, you must have something important to tell me, huehue tlacatl; enlighten me." Surprising herself when she addressed him in his language, he obviously took notice of her reaction, his wrinkled mouth twitched into a knowing smile.

* * *

**A/N: conetlicui child of light, and huehue tlacatl old man in Nahuatl.**

** I know... 'WTF is with the creepy old Aztec dude?' C'mon, more often than not... there's a bit of a cliff hanger at the end of the chapters I write. **

**Remember, reviews make the world go round... See you on the flip side  
**


	7. More Shocking Revelations

**'kay kiddies, time to reveal the importance of the Aztec witchdoctor guy! Here's Chapter seven, hope you love it!**

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"I see you're not fighting any of this… unlike your vision." Her Nahuatl screams echoed quietly around them, her face paled at her own words thrown back at her. "I sense the worry and pain you feel for your sister, teoyohtica cihuapili(A/N: that means _holy lady_). You're humanity and emotions give you grace, hold onto them tightly; the darkness will do almost anything to rip them away from you. If ever they were to succeed in doing so… you would be left defenseless before them." 

"Can I save Emily? I know its part of how all this comes to be, but… she's all I've got in the world; all these years, it was her alone that's kept me going." The grimly serious expression that the old man's kind face fell into caused her hope to slip and her grip on her composure to wane.

"I see that Emily is the core of your conviction, but the time is coming where your limits will pull back a substantial amount. She will no longer be the sole person you live for, and when the inevitable occurs, those left to you will ease her passing. In the end you will discover that she was not completely gone… a part of her remains hidden in the shadows." He said, catching and keeping the attention of her dark eyes, "Only time and your victory can uncover what she leaves behind."

She watched the man with uncertainty, trying to make sense of what he was saying. She never liked riddles or people teasing her with hints; she'd never reacted well to any of it in the past. But now, all she found herself doing was standing there waiting for the information sink in.

"Okay, but I'm curious… what does any of this have to do with the Aztecs?" the old man laughed heartily at the question, but he regained seriousness when he noticed that she really didn't know about what had happened between her ancestors and the Aztecs.

"I always thought they'd passed that story down like the tale of the weapon." He said befuddled.

"That was the only story they lived long enough to teach us, really."

"At the time of Hernan Cortez' conquering of my people, his policy was: convert or die. Most of us gave our lives willingly and honorably, but…"

Understanding dawned on her as she continued to stare wonderingly at the Aztec man, "But there were women and children…"

"Yes, we wanted them safe and alive. There was one Spaniard that helped my people, claimed they had converted so that they could keep their lives. He said it was because my daughter reminded him of his own, and her twin brother back in Spain." He spoke sadly with a glint of gratitude sparkling in his old eyes, deeply set in his weathered face twisted by a frown. "He took her and my three sons, took them in and 'taught them the way of Christ'. Years later his son married little Xochi, my daughter, she was a wild spirit but they were happy…"

"Who was the man?" She asked curiously as she began to understand where the story was going.

"A man named Alfonso Esperanza from the village of Arcos… even now, hundreds of years later, Xochi's wild and bright eyes can be seen so very clearly." He smiled warmly at Nadia, who couldn't help but blush and turn her own gaze elsewhere. "Your grandmother was from Arcos, yes?"

"I… I don't know, I just found out she was a Spaniard." According to what logic she could rely on in the strange place they were in, she really had no idea if it was true or not. But her heart had never lied to her, and could never be deterred from the things it knew to be the truth, it wasted no time in making the answer perfectly clear. "You're one of my ancestors…"

"Yes, and before Alfonso left our land with my children, I blessed my daughter; that one day her descendant would be tested by the loss of a loved one, confronted with the greatest challenge, one that most people would run from or disbelieve… and they would _triumph_, if they are strong enough. Teoyohtica conetl(A/N: _holy child_), the gods and goddesses of our people are on your side! They have faith that you are the descendent that will triumph over something so much more evil than what wiped out our people." Each word escalated a little bit more in his excitement that he'd finally found her and her sister; the lost daughters of the Aztec.

A powerful gust of wind came roaring into the cave where they spoke, whipping at Nadia's fragile body, while the old man's immortal spirit that stood before her did not flinch at the wind; hell, he didn't even seem to notice it. But there she stood, her arms covering her face, eyes squinted at the force of the wind, felt the sudden fear melt away with the strength of the madly surging air. When it ended, she found herself breathing heavily with the feeling of weightlessness and renewed energy, but still slightly confused.

"What the hell was that!" she cried incredulously.

His smile was enough to frighten her if she hadn't already known his motives, "Your birthright; the spiritual strength our people, aside from your abilities and the weapon… it is what you will need most to defeat this evil."

"Spiritual strength? Not that I'm ungrateful… But in the end, how much can spiritual strength do?" she said before taking one last deep breath in attempt to calm her raging nerves.

"Where would anyone be without it? So long as you have spiritual strength… the rest will catch up when it needs to." She eyed the man cautiously as doubt began to creep in from the corners of her mind.

"You mean… spiritual as in religious strength, right? Because, I'll be honest, I lost my religion and faith when…"

"Your parents were murdered, and you only pretended it was still there to humor your uncle… for your sister so she wouldn't end up as a 'wretched waste of life' like you always thought you were." Nadia stared with wide eyes, _how_? Catching her reaction, he laughed heartily, "No… not that kind of spirituality, you believe in yourself, no? Ah, you believe in your ability to watch over Emily more than anything else, your need for it… for her, that's where your spirituality lies… til now."

They looked at each other in silence for a while, it felt like an eternity to the young huntress; and then, as suddenly as he and this bizarre little place had appeared, she blinked and he was gone. She was alone in the mysterious caves. Straightening herself out, with all intentions of exploring the cave, she began to hear distant voices calling her name. _Well shit, what's all that about?_ She thought just before being thrown back to where she was prior to the strange meeting.

"Wha…th—fuck…" she grumbled sleepily from the couch in Missouri's parlor; in the split second it took her to realize where she was, her eyes had snapped open wide and she tried to jump up off the couch, but unseen hands held her down causing her to panic and fight them.

"Child, stop fighting… and no cussing!" Missouri's voice rang clear in the huntresses ears and she froze. Instantaneously, the restraints of hands lifted from her. "Now what happened?"

Rubbing her head, Nadia stood and began walking out of the room, "…vision."

"Not like any vision _I've_ ever seen you get." Her sister commented lowly; causing Nadia to stop cold in her tracks and turned furious eyes on the girl.

"And after however long you've been gone… how would _you _know, huh?" all three women stiffened by the ferocity and fire in her outburst, Nadia's face fell when she realized who she'd just snapped at; shaking her head she began to walk out again, "Sorry, I just… give me a minute alone…"

This time, no one said a thing, nor made any movements to stop her; relief washed over her as she traipsed down the hall towards the kitchen, only stopping when she heard a soft mewing at her feet. "Mitzi!" She exclaimed, picking up the dainty little black cat rubbing at her leg; petting her she cooed, "Mitzi you bitch. I was wondering where the hell you're little furry ass was, damn… you weren't young when we first got here, but if I didn't know any better… I'd say you were still a kitten."

To which the cat's only response was a whining meow.

_Great, this smart ass feline figured out the secret of eternal youth way be-fucking-fore I can figure out a way to save my sister… goddamn flea-bag_. "Yikes, Mitzi…FUCKER!" She yelped as she tossed the animal that had tried to take a bite out of her hand a split second prior. "That's right; you get to introduce your _face_ to the wall! I have _thumbs_, I always win!" She grumbled as she grabbed the door to the back porch; now more than ever, she needed a cigarette.

* * *

"Well, that went well…" Emily huffed, still staring out the exit of the parlor room where Nadia had stormed out. Missouri let out a heavy sigh and Sarah just sat quietly, waiting for something to happen. 

"Child, are you a friend of Nadia's?" Missouri inquired, finally turning her attention to the stranger sitting next to Emily on the couch.

"Something like that," she whispered, pausing a moment before elaborating, "She was helping me with something." it took her a second or two to realize that both women left in the room were still looking expectantly at her; her shoulders curled in a bit as a result of their stares.

"Well… what are you waiting for, go see what the girl can do for ya." The reader cried.

"But—you saw her, she's upset right now." Berating herself instantly, Sarah had been raised to be polite, to never whine… but at the moment she felt like a whiney 4 year old that was desperately trying to get out of doing her chores. She opened her mouth, trying to think of some sort of apology, Emily lightly clapped at her back; when she turned to the young medic Emily flashed a sympathetic smile.

"Nadia… well, when she's mad at someone in particular, she only takes it out on them… nobody else." The girl explained with a weak smile. "Besides, lately it seems she's bent on helping as many people as she can, whether they ask for assistance or not."

"Why would she be mad at you… if you don't mind me asking?"

"Oh, yea, _that_…" Emily bit her lip, shamefully forcing her eyes downcast, "My sister and I were raised… differently; I was too young to resent my parents for bringing us up the way they did. So when they died, I relied on Nadia, she'd become my protector; our uncle continued our bizarre," she emphasized bizarre by clearing her throat, "training. But I began to feel bitter towards her when she got her first vision; we ended up having to move again… here. This move wasn't all that bad, here normal seems fairly possible. I started volunteering as an EMT at the local hospital… by the time I was 16, I received notice that I was being offered a real job as a paramedic in Jefferson City. Against everyone's better judgment, I took the job and left…"

"Nine years ago… the night before her sister needed her most." Missouri cut in, "Poor girl's been going about her own way alone ever since; for a while she had shut everyone out completely. Eventually she came around and would come here often for sanctuary when it would get too hard for her to handle alone." Both girls looked at the old reader with angst in their eyes; Sarah for the sad, but true story being told to her, and Emily for hearing for the first time how her sister had really been doing since she'd left. A moment of somber silence cut through the room, Missouri smiled sadly and shook her head as she took note of Emily's guilt consumed glare at the coffee table.

"Now you stop thinking that way, Emily Elizabeth! Your sister still needs you; you've done the best thing you can do to fix whatever pain she was in… you came back. Don't sulk, it ain't attractive." She said matter-of-factly, the huntress smirked, eased by her guardians scolding. "And you, sweetie; go find the answers you came all this way for."

Sarah smiled as she sighed and got up from her spot of the couch; took one last look at the two women before her and walked down the long hallway to the kitchen. She knew Nadia probably went back for another cigarette and that's where she would find the girl.

* * *

It had always made the New Yorker smile a little wider to know when she was right, and emerging from the house to see Nadia sitting on the bench chain smoking brought her to beam at the surprised huntress. 

"Sarah…" the huntress flinched as the sudden appearance of the younger girl startled her.

"Sorry about… what happened in there."

"Don't worry about it." She said, refusing to show the weak emotions of desperately needing to be needed, "Now… I believe you wanted to ask me some questions?" both girls smiled for their moment of silence prior to Sarah's questionnaire.

"Well, it's about my friend… the one I told you about?"

"…Sam…"

"Yea," She bit her lip, wondering how she would word her inquiry, "I've tried calling him numerous times in the past couple of months… he never answers, and never calls back; so, naturally, I'm worried. Would you be able to tell me if he's alright or possibly where he is?"

She waited tensely as Nadia focused harshly at the ground before her feet; the passing seconds felt like an eternity had stretched out and wrapped itself around them before she answered. It came slowly, beginning with a small hopeful smile and progressed positively from there.

Sighing the huntress spoke up, "The past few months have been…foggy for Sam. He's alright now—like I said, hunting's a hazardous job—though, danger for both him and… his brother still lurks in the shadows of their future. As far as where he is… I can't quite tell, it's… fuzzy." Confusion took an unusual hold on her as she tried to reach out to her fellow hunters. "Do you have a cell?"

"Yea." Sarah exclaimed as if she were being snapped from a daydream. Nadia pulled out her phone from one of the pockets of her cargo pants and handed it to her.

"Put your number in there; I'll try looking into it again later. It's getting late and you look pretty tired." She said, taking notice of how the light had turned golden orange from the dying sun, "And stick around town for a few days… it's a tad safer here than anywhere else at the moment. I'll be in touch the moment I get anything. It was nice meeting you Miss Blake."

Sarah smiled warmly, returning the compliment as she stood, handed the phone back to Nadia, and shook her hand. Moments later she was in the back yard alone once more, and the last few rays of the red sun sank beyond the houses lying rigidly on the horizon, Nadia watched it with bitterness, though she didn't know why. But as it had always been for her, if she didn't know the reason behind something, she only had to wait a few minutes before the answer inevitably came to her.

She was bitter because she saw how much Sarah loved the young man she was so worried about. She loved. Nadia had no idea what it felt like to love anyone aside from her long deceased family, surrogate mother, and sister… the annoying tug of wanting someone else, someone special pulled at her heartstrings. Resulting in the consent of allowing her body to produce a single tear, no less, no more; because for as doomed as she knew she was, hope would always linger just around the corner. When the tear finished traveling to her chin, the sun had gone, night had fallen, and the huntress retreated to the confines of the house where she knew she would be safe.

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**Mwahahaha... yep, chapter seven's over and done. Reviews will bring more, don't worry. I'm almost done with chapter eight and I've figured out some very interesting things for future chapters that will be very interesting... to say the least. Until then, adios!**


	8. Introducing MajorPlayer X and her sister

**Yaay, new chapter! I'm sure some of you guys are like, 'when the hell are the boys coming back into the story?' well, dear readers... I've kept you waiting long enough. The boys make their grand re-entrance in this chapter. Enjoy!**

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It was well past noon when Nadia woke up the next day; exhaustion still hung uncharacteristically to the huntress, weighing and slowing her down. When she finally found herself in the kitchen her sister sat at the table nursing a mug of hot tea. As Emily looked up, they traded weak smiles and the younger shot up to offer Nadia a drink. The smell of raspberry tea lingered enticingly in the air, Nadia would have to be insane to turn it down. But as they both settled at the table, their moment of silent peace ended abruptly.

"So, the living dead is finally awake…" Emily groused lovingly, "Seriously; did you sleep well?"

Nadia was shocked to the point of jerking backwards at how sincere and concerned her little sister appeared. After a moment of having to remember what the hell was being asked of her and thinking over the answer, Nadia scoffed and tugged at the bag of tea leaves in her mug.

"All caught up from the night before… still feel like _shit_. But, as we've learned over the years… that's what scorching beverages are for." déjà vu was beginning to show signs of its presence, but Nadia covered her suspicion with her usual sarcasm. In taking the bait, Emily raised her mug, mumbling a quick 'cheers' and returning to the newspaper flung all over the kitchen table in a disturbingly unorganized and messy manner. Emily didn't seem bothered by it, neither did she seem to notice her sister wincing at the sight; it just irked the older Coltier.

Then the rumble came, and Nadia's head shot up as she remembered the vision. The front door flew open as their guardian stepped outside and the events of her premonition began to come into existence. Turning her head slightly to better hear the conversation floating towards the back of the house, she revisited the vision with a bit more clarity.

"Good to see you boys again, alive and well I see… very good. Sam, how have you been doing; with your abilities, I mean?"

"Same as usual."

"Hmm, and I trust you're keeping him out of trouble?"

"As best as I can, ma'am… but you know Sammy's a geeky trouble magnet." Laughing to herself, she could almost see Missouri giving the young man a reprimanding glare, and clearly heard her thoughts as she mentally threatened to fetch the wooden spoon and give him a good wallop upside the head.

"Boys, come on inside and settle down. There's someone I'd like you to meet, she's going to help you with your powers, Sam." she heard the three sets of footsteps enter the house, door closing and one of their new guests clearing his throat in uncertainty. The apprehension she'd felt in the vision was present and escalating rapidly, and still without reason. "We're lucky to have her here, I honestly didn't think she would come… she even brought her little sister along with her."

Nadia looked up just in time to see Emily scoff and mouth, 'Little sister, HA, little' with her signature sarcastic eye roll; the one she could never help but laugh at. She hadn't even noticed that the three had arrived in the kitchen until Missouri caught their attention by clearing her throat expectantly.

"Boys, these young ladies are the last of a very long line of demon hunters; Nadia and Emily Coltier. Girls," she began, "this is Sam and Dean Winchester." Having felt the heaviness of the young men's eyes on her, she kept her gaze downward; on her mug. As if she couldn't resist it, her reaction to their names was the same as in her vision: the color vanished from her face, her head shot up, and her eyes widened. Less than one beat later, she had retained her cool and calm composure as she turned her attention to the brothers.

"Have we met before?" Sam asked politely as he stared curiously at Nadia, "I swear I've met the both of you somewhere…" She could easily see that Dean didn't share his brother's sentiments; he just stared at her, hoping to catch her on a more social than business level.

"Uh," the words became stuck mercilessly in her throat as she glanced at them in a mild state of panic, "I've heard about the Winchester men, but I can't honestly say I've ever met any of you…" She fibbed quickly, clumsily; thrusting her hand forward to authenticate her sincere deception. Feeling her sister's questioning glower, she let Emily hear one screaming and fierce mental order: _Just _GO_ with it!_ "I'm Nadia…"

She knew it was invasion of privacy and pretty much unfair, but she couldn't help but take a peak at their thoughts.

_The Coltier demon hunters? I've never heard of them before, and how are they going to be able to help with my 'gifts'…the faint Castilian accent's pretty cool, though._

_Finally somebody knows how to help geek-boy, over here. Chicks with Spanish accents, huh? That's hot._ She smiled sweetly, trying her best to stifle the laugh Dean's thoughts were eliciting from her. They both shook her hand, clarifying who was Sam and who was Dean; Emily grinned warmly and waved, underneath the table she kicked at her sister's shin.

Nadia snapped her head towards her with a murderous look, "…my kid sister, Emily." The tension and level of awkwardness present in the room was more than enough to entertain the older huntress, unfortunately for her, she knew it was up to her to end it. "So… which one of you guys has the shinning?" not that she didn't already know, but their reaction was just amusing; Sam blushed crimson from slight embarrassment, and Dean's smile brightened at the Jack Nicholson reference.

"That would be Sammy, here. No offence or anything, but how exactly do you plan on helping my brother?" his words and tone implied doubt, but going on how fidgety Dean had suddenly become, he knew he was truly concerned for the well being of his brother.

"None taken," quickly stealing a glance at the taller man, she picked up on a couple of his more obvious abilities, "when the dormant powers in a person first awaken… well, it's painful and quite draining. Sam here looks like he's been having visions and random kicks of telekinesis for about a year now, right?"

The young psychic blanched, nodding slowly. "Yea…"

"Then you really are lucky I'm here… you're getting dangerously close to a level of excruciating pain from your gifts. Not at all a smart thing to do; in fact, had you waited a week, perhaps a month more… they would have killed you." This time both men paled; wide, fear-driven eyes bore into her, urging her to continue and yet not. "When your powers start popping up out of no-where, you should seek help right away. Not having control over them is quite deadly."

Regardless of having this task suddenly thrown at her, without anyone asking Nadia if she even wanted to help, she instantly became determined to do everything she could to help the young man before it was too late. The fear that exuded from both young men felt like an earthquake to Nadia; but the most touching emotion that had erupted and body slammed her was Dean's unfathomable amount of gratefulness towards her. She didn't need to wickedly invade his mind to hear his sudden change in thoughts.

_She's saving Sammy's life…how the hell could I ever repay her for this? She'll never know how much this means to me._

"When do we start?" she felt Sam kick his fear away from himself and a disquieting feeling of calm settled in as he spoke. His brother silently demanded that she did something quick.

"Lesson number one: Anticipating a vision, being able to tell when one is about to sucker punch you… vital first step towards preventing pain and eventual death… you'll feel something similar to your stomach being tugged downward. When you feel that, don't brace yourself… _relax_." She insisted sternly, urgently repeating the first tip Missouri had ever given her 15 years ago; not really noticing her childhood instructor stood leaning in the doorway, beaming at the fine job she'd done training the girl years ago; an enormous amount of pride gushed from the old reader. "Relax and be patient with it. The more you fight it and freak out over it… the more energy it sucks up, the greater the pain. Sounds simple, yes, in theory… but to actually be able to follow through with it? Yea, it's going to take a lot of practice."

"How long are we talking… for him to be able to have a vision and not be doubling over?" he asked hesitantly; Dean had become so nervous for his brother's well being that he had gone from fidgeting to rocking back and forth on his heels.

"A month… 5 weeks tops." She surmised evenly, Dean wasn't as unruffled when she answered him.

"_WHAT…A MONTH?_ But you said this stuff might kill him in a month." Dean argued, voicing the petrified nervousness in his brother. Nadia, however, remained complacent, without emotion.

"Yes… if you had waited that long before coming here. But you didn't, he's here now… he just took his first step towards accepting his powers for Christ sake." _Jeezy Creezy, these boys are more dramatic than a bunch of girls in a chick-flick!_ "Now calm down, Sam's not leaving any of us any time soon."

Nadia's eyes flickered from her sister to Missouri to the direction of the parlor room; without missing a beat, Missouri takes the hint, "Emily, baby girl, would you mind helping this old poop pick up some groceries?"

Looking up, she began to relay a negative answer, but she caught the determined look in the Reader's eyes, and hesitantly got up sighing. "You kids don't have too much fun… we'll be back later."

The three remaining hunters sat in silence until they were all sure that both Missouri and Emily were, in fact, gone. Nadia calmly regarded the brothers, Sam was growing increasingly uncomfortable under the scrutinizing gaze of the young woman, and Dean… well, once he had finally gotten over his little freak out from moments ago, he was back to being Dean: undressing the girl with his eyes.

The quiet peace didn't last long when an alarmed look consumed Sam's features, his fearful emotions catching the girl's attention while his hands flew to his head, pressing harshly in hopes of alleviating the pain. His brother was still at his side, so he had grasped his kid brother's shoulders in a matter of nano-seconds.

"Don't do that," Nadia reprimanded, earning a glare from the older Winchester, "don't coddle him like that. Letting him know you're there is one thing, be he'll become dependant on that simple contact if you keep reacting like that."

Unmoving, he kept his disapproving glower aimed at the huntress. Walking over to them, she smacked his hands away; turned to the younger psychic and gently brushed a chunk of hair from his eyes. "If you let dependencies take hold… that'll definitely kill him, especially when he gets slammed by one of these and you're no-where around." Before he had time to give a reaction, her eyes seemed to involuntarily snap shut, groaning she began to sink to the floor as the images ripping through Sam's mind shot through her own.

_Goddamn the pain… goddamnit all to hell! I'm getting pretty tired of these sucker punch visions!_ Her mind screamed venomously. But the anger and frustration gave way to fear and shock as she realized what both she and Sam were witnessing.

**There were screams, young women screaming; anguished screams, the kind you hear when someone watches a person very close to them die. Flashes of images flickered like the apparitions they'd seen in their years of hunting; the Aztec witchdoctor, a girl crouched and sobbing at the base of a bathtub, pounded by water with a death grip on the fallen shower curtain covering her naked body; herself and Dean sitting closely talking bitterly about their lives, a girl in a Chicago Cubs jersey—otherwise naked—clinging to Dean in terror. Someone rocking a dead body while they're own was racked with sobs of misery. Expressions of uncertainty, hate fueled glares, and smoking antique guns accompanied by the echoes of multiple gunshots. A man and a woman could be heard screaming at the top of their lungs at each other: '_Just what in the hell are you teaching him_?' 'Goddamnit, _I can't _do_ this anymore!_' More crying, muffled by a shirt… murmurs of pregnancy, the cries of a newborn; a man begging his wife to hold on a little while longer… children laughing. The soothing feeling of well earned peace; but one thing remained with Nadia as her senses began to return to her…**

**A little girl smiled, strawberry blond hair blew gently in the breeze, and sea blue eyes glittered upward, '_Hi there, Mary… I'm your aunt; it's time to go home_.'**

She was almost sure it had been her voice, or maybe it wasn't… she wasn't certain. Blinking away the last fading shreds of confusion, she found herself inches away from two highly concerned Winchester brothers.

"Doh… shit, what the hell!" she cried as she rolled away from the brothers and out of Dean's protective grasp. "Sammy, you should know by now that coming-to with someone an_ inch _from your_ face _is a very unsettling thing… it startles the _shit_ out of people like us!"

He chortled silently, knowing what she said was true… in his case for as much as he knew. He wasn't really sure about the rest of the world's population of psychics. Dean however, rolled his eyes and motioned for her to let him give her a once over… make sure she wasn't hurt in any way.

"You were fine one minute and bitching at me… the next you passed out and landed weird on your left arm." She glared at him indignantly, _had he not even _tried_ to catch me?_ "The damage shouldn't be that bad, I was able to catch you before your arm had a chance to break."

Her gaze softened, with her right hand she latched onto the wrist inspecting her other arm; giving it a squeeze of gratitude before letting go again. His eyes still conveyed the feeling of annoyance, unsure of whether or not he'd taken her gesture the right way or not, she listened carefully to the man's 'inner-monologue'.

_Huh, she's not fond of chick-flick moments either… a lot better at divulging her feelings than Sammy here; I knew he was a chick._ Had it not been for the faint sting of discomfort in her wrist she would have laughed, instead she released a barely audible hiss at the contact of Dean's calloused hand on her left wrist.

"Looks sprained, the most you'll have to show for it might be a bruise. You'll live another day." He kidded tenderly, "So… what did you guys see?"

Sam's gaze rushed to his brother as he panicked, wondering whether or not he should tell him; in his hesitation, Nadia's soothing voice broke into his silent conflict. _It's okay to be scared, Sammy… just don't bury it. Go ahead, tell him… I'll help; I saw exactly what you saw._

He looked confused as he brought his attention to the girl sitting in front of his brother, leaning her back against the wall with a slightly smug expression on her face. "I… I dunno, there was a lot of shifting images… mostly sounds, voices… emotions."

"Care to elaborate on any of those?" Nadia exhaled noisily, a terse look slipped over her face before she explained.

"There were a variety of images, most of them bad. A lot of screams, loud arguments, crying… fear and agony had an overwhelming presence through out most of it. There was a little blond girl named Mary, her aunt was telling her it was time to go home…"

"She looked a bit like Jessica…" Sam added, looking exceptionally haunted; Nadia couldn't help but feel sad upon the mention of this 'Jessica' person… then she saw the emotion again. The one she saw in Sarah earlier… the one she couldn't relate to: love. She felt her heart deflate and sink to the astounding depths of her soul.

"There was also a gun… an antique Colt revolver, with a pentagram carved into the handle." She noted distantly, pretending to be lost in thought, "For a minute I thought it might be _the_ Colt… but I—that's just hunter-lore… isn't it?" carefully she watched the brothers reaction; she'd seen their secret weapon, she knew it's story, not only was she a legit huntress… she was a major player like themselves.

"The Colt, huh?" Sam asked cautiously. Dean shifted nervously where he sat on the floor near the girl, _Sounds to me like Sammy didn't see the Colt in _his_ vision…wonder what else she saw…_

"The people in your visions… were they being attacked by anything we can kill? Any leads as to where it's going to play out, or who needs our help?" Both gifted hunters looked dumbstruck for a second as they thought over the questions.

"You came up a couple of times; a girl was scared and clinging to you, and then you and Nadia were sitting together talking about something… pretty much all the familiar things I could spot in it. As for attackers… didn't see any, the people being attacked… I couldn't see their faces… and the places all seemed pretty random, they could have been anywhere." Sam admitted as he ran through the mental list feeling utterly useless for not being able to give his brother more to go on. Dean simply nodded and turned his attention to Nadia, waiting for her to give some sort of explanation.

"I…" she huffed discouraged by the fact that too much of the vision was more than familiar to her, "Before I say anything… you guys gotta understand something; my family is messed up…"

She could see that they were unsurprised, considering their line of work; but she had to make them understand without spilling her family's entire history. "In comparison to most demon hunting families… the Coltier line is _really _fucked up," she scoffed as the surmised version came to her, "Our name isn't that well known in hunting circles… not much is known about us… my parents were the first in the history of the Coltier hunters to live past the age of 30." She felt her eyes burn as the impending tears threatened to fall, "The first to even get to see their children celebrate their third birthday… and _because_ they were able to go against tradition, Emily and I are cursed."

Breaking the brother's silence as she explained herself, Sam decided to press the issue a little bit. "Cursed how, was it _the_ Demon?" he regretted asking, though, when he saw the deflated grimace claim her already weakening features.

"For years… I didn't know how they were able to evade him, didn't know how they were able to figure it out… but they did. Around the time I was born, they figured out I had abilities, they'd just found out that the whispered legend of a demon who stole gifted infants and killed their mothers was true. So they got pregnant again, immediately… and somehow It didn't catch on to us for a few years. But when It did… ooh was that bastard angry; instead of taking just my mother… he took them both." She'd never told that story to anyone before, never knew just how depressing it would be to reminisce over it.

TBC...

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**Bit of a cliff-er there... but not really since I'm adding two other chapters along with this one. Hope you enjoyed!  
**


	9. Memories and Other Shocking Things

**Ok, here's the next chapter. I don't know why I'm leading you into it with the last part of the last chapter... but I am, so... I guess that's just how this cookie's crumbling... Anyway, like it, love it, hate it... let me know how I'm doing**

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"For years… I didn't know how they were able to evade him, didn't know how they were able to figure it out… but they did. Around the time I was born, they figured out I had abilities, they'd just found out that the whispered legend of a demon who stole gifted infants and killed their mothers was true. So they got pregnant again, immediately… and somehow It didn't catch on to us for a few years. But when It did… ooh was that bastard angry; instead of taking just my mother… he took them both." She'd never told that story to anyone before, never knew just how depressing it would be to reminisce over it.

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Both Winchester's watched her with sad eyes, watched as she bit her lip so hard that blood slowly made it's way down her chin; Dean felt his hatred towards the demon swell to a dangerous level, more than ever he wanted to kill the son of a bitch. "How'd you and Emily get out?"

_Flashback:_

_It had been an especially frigid night in the little neighborhood just south of downtown Chicago that November of '88. A dark haired man, Nicholas—no older than 36—tucked his youngest daughter into bed; a simple mattress on the opposite end of the room as her sister, who sat fully awake flipping through her mother's Key of Solomon book while her mother braided the eight year olds burgundy hair, explaining each page._

_They had just finished discussing the Devil's Trap when her mother, Julianna, decided it was time for bed. _

_The parents bid their girls goodnight and left the room after turning off the lights, moments later, the younger girl popped her head of brown curls out of bed; nine millimeter gun in hand, looking around for a moment she returned the gun to it's place beneath her pillow and attempted to go back to sleep._

_About an hour later, little Nadia awoke to find little Emily's green eyes, large in terror, inches from her face. "What's the matter, Emmy?"_

"_Nightmare…" Nadia smiled knowingly and lifted her blanket for the younger to scoot into bed with her._

"_Next time, Emmy, you're going to have to brave staying in your own bed… we're getting too big for this." Though, somehow, Nadia knew that it wouldn't be the last time, and that there was something truly wrong that night. Something that would forever change them… if only she knew _what_, though… the answer wouldn't come 'til midnight, when the smell of smoke and the faint sound of dripping roused the older sister once more; nothing would ever be the same._

_Sleepy eyes opened to the sight of Emily's slumbering form, but something was off; lightly brushing away the strands of hair that had fallen unto her sister's forehead, the little huntress was distressed to discover that it wasn't hair on her sister's forehead. Upon inspection she discovered it to be blood; slowly she eased her hand over her sister's eyes before her own wandered in the direction of their ceiling._

_The gasp provoked by what she saw caused her lungs to feel the impending fire, "Emily…" she begged quietly, "Emily… wake up, Emmy! We have to go… we have to go _now_…"_

"_But I'm sleeping!" the younger whined, Nadia hated whatever evil entity had caused this; more than anything she wanted the girl to sleep peacefully. Leaping from the bed, she slipped on the shoes she'd left by her bed earlier and scooped up the sleeping child._

"_Fine, then I'll carry you… but whatever happens, Emmy…don't look at the ceiling." She felt a slight comfort as Emily wrapped her arms tightly around her neck and nodded sluggishly into her sister's shoulder, smearing blood on the oversized Wrigley's Field t-shirt Nadia wore in place of regular pajama's. "I've got you, Emmy; you're safe with me…"_

_They had just gotten to their front door when the girls room erupted in flames, forever destroying the two things that ignited it; the young couple with kind faces, dark hair, a history of deceit and untold tales of heroism: Nick and Julianna Coltier._

_Halfway down the street, illuminated by the sickening red flashing, the two last living Coltier descendants sat on the trunk of a neighbor's car. Emily was fully awake at this point and staring dumbstruck at the smoke and flame that was billowing from their home, "What happened, Dia?"_

_The girl with braided burgundy hair, which looked like the fire that killed her family in the flashing of the fire trucks light, turned to her sibling; realizing her destiny, seeing for the first time a grand majority of what she was meant for…not only was she the warrior she was raised to be, but she was a protector, her sisters guardian angel. _

"_Mommy and Daddy are gone… but we'll be ok, Emmy. You've got me, kid; you're going to be _just_ fine." Wiping the last of their parent's blood from her sister's forehead, she felt a fading charge of energy leave her fingertips as she rubbed the blood off her fingers onto the car._

_End of Flashback_

"…She'll never know what she saved me from when the blood landed on her instead of me."

"What's the deal with the blood, anyway?" Sam murmured, somewhat lost in his own memories, "I never really understood that bit, and since there's not a lot known about Big Bad…"

"I'll admit… it's something I've always wondered myself." Nadia shifted nervously under the eager glances of the brothers

_Flashback_

_Four years after that fateful night, Nadia sat thoughtfully in Missouri Moseley's backyard, under the willow tree out of immediate sight to anyone who might be looking for her. Tenderly cradling in her hands the piece of paper that had brought about her second vision; listlessly she traced the image, the Devil's trap. Traces of the vision were left lingering in her mind._

**_She was back in their old room in Chicago, Emily lay sleeping peacefully in Nadia's bed; while Nadia herself stood at the window, outside was nothing but stark blackness, nothingness. It wasn't until she turned around that she saw their looming threat. The shadow moved with a lethal grace, his garments swooped behind him and curled with a touch of wickedness, and his orange-yellow eyes made Nadia's stomach tie into knots. His grin, she couldn't see, but she could feel it as the malicious twitch of his lips made her insides burn; he was dangerous, he was murderous, without a word exchanged she could tell that he would be her greatest enemy. She knew the final battle her and Emily would fight in their legacy, would be against him._**

"_**Nadia, my pet!" He exclaimed, as if she were a long lost relative that he'd spent centuries looking for, gesturing towards her with open, welcoming arms.**_

"_**Who are you, and what do you want?" she felt herself being backed into a corner by his pseudo-caring.**_

"**_I've been searching for you, darling…but your family just doesn't want to make it very easy for me. They keep _getting in the WAY_!" his rage quickly overpowered his fake loving attitude, but she didn't cower as easily as any normal 12 year old would have; so long as Emily was safe… she didn't care what happened to her._**

"**_What do you want with my sister… what do you want with ME!" the conviction and fury that boomed from the girls throat seemed to have them both startled. But only one remained even slightly uneasy; as soon as she had quieted down again, the creature cloaked in shadows laughed sadistically._**

"**_Baptized in blood, that which would be marked… as mine; though, my dear, I must admit… the last time my hand stretched forth to grasp it's new toy, my collection's most recent acquirement… it found my target's sibling in your stead." His hand extended slowly, fingers uncurled shakily as if he wanted _so_ badly to grab her by the throat and fill her with a tiny fraction of his wickedness… an amount that would negate what light remained in the jaded youth. Nevertheless, she stood her ground, staring him down, glowering at the wicked being._**

"_**So…you meant to kill me, but now it's Emily, or the both of us that are marked for death?" the thing laughed at her puzzled expression.**_

"**_Unfortunately…no, I've no power over you at all; I hold no sway over you or your abilities. But _through_ dear, sweet, baby-sister, Emily… I have an indirect grip on your soul; not exactly what I wanted, but," he said as he swept his hand inches over Emily's sleeping face, "I suppose it'll have to do."_**

**_She felt her own rage eating away at whatever traces of patience she had left, snarling at this unearthly creature, she screamed before he left her and her sister alone, "YOU CANNOT HAVE US! I DON'T KNOW HOW, BUT ONE DAY I WILL FIND A WAY TO SEND YOU _BACK_ TO THE HELL YOU CRAWLED FROM!"_**

_Flinching laboriously as the last images faded, vowing from that day forth, she would search til then ends of the earth for a way to undo Its curse. Steely eyes gazed at the rising moon, the ascending darkness moved considerably slower on that night, as if sensing the girl's vehemence._

_End of Flashback_

"For the next 14 years… I studied every trace Big Bad ever left, I was able to learn that most of his victims either went mad and committed suicide or they neglected learning how to control their powers; in which case, the powers would kill them. If the marked children were able to avoid any of that… he could easily find them, attacking again whenever he wished; when he did, he'd have total control over them and their powers… he can tap into them, use them against their owners or their owners loved ones." She paused to run a hand through her long hair, sighed and began again. "But, a normal child marked by evil? He could keep tabs on her, and eventually…" She swallowed, hating the truth in what came next. "The curse on Emily and me: the last of our family, she dies at the hand of _the_ Demon… the weight of our line's survival will be on me, and… So, a great deal of the vision Sam and I had... the screams were quite clearly Emily and I, the, um… gah…"

Pain seized her lungs, her throat constricted so much she would have cried had she not already been doing that, her hands shook frantically as she covered her face with them; hot tears burned her cheeks as uncontrollable sobs hiccupped their way out of her mouth. She knew it was inevitable, she knew it would happen in the not too distant future, and she knew that she had to be brave, had to be strong; but seeing it in a vision drove it home and multiplied the misery of it to a point where she was quite certain she could no longer take it. At some point she had failed to notice that they had moved closer to her; Sam sat at her feet, one hand placed consolingly on her left knee, while Dean was sitting to her right, one arm wrapped around her trembling shoulders, his jaw leaning lightly on the top of her head.

"The crying girl and the…" he couldn't bring himself to say it, knowing it would destroy the huntress… and Dean would kick his ass for mentioning it, "That was you and Emily… is there anything we can do to stop it? Help save Emily?"

"Yea, I mean, it's the least we could do since you're helping Sammy…" for a moment, she almost believed that there was a way… for a moment, she reveled in the solace of their offer; for a second, she almost believed it could work.

She sat quietly for a few minutes, seemingly collecting herself before her sister and Missouri came back from the store; when really, she was deciding whether or not she would allow the boys to help her find a way to save Emily, knowing full well it was useless. _It would be a waste of time… but what if they found something…they have better things to do, Sam _needs_ to gain control over his powers… and what of Dean?…He can continue undressing me with his eyes…WHAT?_ Her head shook spastically in disbelief of the words scrolling through her own head; when she noticed the confused look Sam was beginning to give her, she faked a sneeze to cover her tracks. "Maybe... I don't know..."

She nearly jumped out of her skin when she felt Dean's hands gently brush away the renegade tear streaks marring her face; he'd swerved himself around a bit to look at her head on. His jaw set and his expression stone like… yet, there was a tenderness rolling off him in waves; soothing the harsh sorrow that had broken her previously relaxed demeanor. She wanted to cry all over again as she witnessed the elder brother's affection, sensing much of the same from Sam… however, she'd already become used to the younger brother's genial disposition, it was obvious that his personality thrived on being a caring young man, hunter or not. But his brother… she hadn't been sure about him until that moment.

Her breath shuddered and caught in her throat as she leaned her head into the crook of his neck, breathing in the musky scent of old leather and… well, Dean. The three hunters sat there for another twenty minutes or so before Sam began to stand up, clearly having had enough of sitting on the ground.

"Tile floor is completely unforgiving on the ass…" he joshed as he helped both his brother and Nadia back to their feet. "Feeling better?"

Nadia bit her bottom lip again, placing her fingertips over her mouth and nodded slowly; refusing to meet the hunter's concerned gaze. Truth be told, she felt dizzy, off-balance… in desperate need of a cigarette. Sighing she walked towards the counter and snatched the cigarettes and lighter from the corner of it, then turned to the boys again, plucking a single little white stick from the box, "Fucking smokers."

They both laughed at the girl's sarcasm, both relieved that she'd been able to calm down once more… but both were still heavily worried. After she disappeared into the back yard, the brothers looked at each other; an instant agreement was made in the simple glance: one of them needed to bring their stuff in from the car, the other would keep an eye on Nadia. Dean grinned smugly and tossed the car keys at his sibling.

"Have fun, Sammy." He called over his shoulder before reaching for the door; Sam couldn't help but find it humorous and ironic that his brother was walking out someone's back door.

* * *

"Hey, Dia… mind if I keep you company for a bit?" he requested energetically, flopping himself down next to the dazed smoker. He kept his eyes fixed on her vacant expression, even when she did turn and look at him, his gaze never faltered. "Dia… that's Spanish for something, isn't it?"

"Day," she whispered, "my dad used to tell me that when I was born they still hadn't picked out a name yet… didn't even know if I'd be a girl or a boy; he said that it was an exceptionally sunny day out, and when the doctors first placed me in his arms… he almost wished he'd been wearing sunglasses, that the light in my eyes was brighter than the sun beaming outside. He'd turned to my mother and exclaimed, 'Julianna… Dia, here has her mother's eyes. She'll never have any problems on hunts… she'll light up the dark wherever she goes.'... Nadia's Slavic for Hopeful." Sniffing quickly, she rubbed at her eyes before they could tear up again; ready to blame smoke getting to them if he questioned her.

"That's a cool story," he put on his most charming grin just for her when she turned to look at him, chuckling he ran a hand through his hair, "I'd tell how my parents decided on Dean… but I don't know that story…"

"It's English for Leader… kinda fitting, actually." She said, braving a smile when she noticed she'd startled him.

"Haha, cool… I can dig it." He smirked cockily whilst staring off into nothing.

"Emily's is Latin," she sighed, fixing her gaze on the grassy back yard, "means Admiring. I miss the days where she would drive me up the walls admiring her big sister, the days where she didn't question or fight every little thing I did."

Dean waved off the statement, "Ah don't worry about it; Sam was the exact same way before he went off to college to be 'normal'. Once he got back into the game, he was the same Sammy I remember teaching the ABC's to… except, of course, he's gotten a lot more intelligent since then, and that was only after two years… She'll come around."

"Her sabbatical from me has lasted about nine years now." She interjected before lighting another cigarette.

"Ho-ly _fuck_! Mind if I steal one? I haven't had a cigarette in years…" offering the open box to her companion, he snatched one and accepted the Zippo lighter from her other hand. "Thanks… man, nine years? I could never last that long without Sammy, he's as much a part of the hunt to me as some bastard apparition; and I thought two years was bad… shit." He digressed while lighting the cigarette, looking down at the lighter he read aloud what had been engraved in the small silver lighter. "Chicago Skyline… complete with a little sketch _of_ the Chicago Skyline; very nice."

"Em and I lived there until our parents died." She explicated, dramatizing it with the smoke that came billowing from her mouth as she spoke.

"Oh, I see… beautiful city, best pizza _ever_!" he declared, causing Nadia to laugh a little more as he emphasized 'ever' with some rather animated hand motions, nearly burning himself with the cigarette he'd forgotten was resting between his right fore and middle fingers.

"Do you ever find yourself jealous of him?" She asked suddenly after a few minutes of oddly comfortable silence between the two older siblings.

"For what: leaving, going to college, living the normal life the little bitch was so determined to have?" he groused, pausing to think, he pursed his lips and shook his head. "Nah, I might be bitter about those things sometimes… but never jealous; I accepted this life a long time ago. Do you?"

"Yes and no… she always wanted more in life, and given our history, well, I knew it would be the only chance she would ever get at it. So, the day I woke up and realized she was gone… on some level I was happy for her." a sob rushed it's way out of her, but was quickly masked as a bitter laugh, "I didn't, however, expect her to stay gone for nine years… that was hard, I did resent her for that. Now with this whole _supernatural war_ looming overhead; I know I'll never get my chance to try living a normal life. It doesn't bother me much, so long as she got a taste of what she'd always dreamt of, especially with the family curse getting ready to rear its ugly head… she got her moment in the sun; that's all that matters to me."

For the next few hours, Nadia and Dean sat on the back porch talking about everything and nothing and whatever happened to fall in between; laughing, venting, releasing bitterness… everything. In the end, Nadia was only vaguely aware that she was shivering violently until Dean pointed it out to her; both were less than vaguely aware of the evil that observed them from the shadows, waiting with a malicious patience for it's time to strike. _Soon, my girl, you've evaded me for far too long…_

"Nadia… are you okay?" Dean asked apprehensively, taking note of how she appeared to be having a seizure.

"I'm a little cold, but aside from that… I'm fine, why?" she lied; yes, she was a bit cold, oh and of course there was that disheartening feeling that they were being watched; all that aside… she was _just fine_.

"You're shaking like a friggin' _leaf_!" he cried, grasping onto her upper arms and rubbing them in hopes of warming her up. She seemed distracted by a shadow on the other side of the yard. "Are Missouri's shrubberies giving you the creeps?"

Instead of returning the humor, she turned to Dean with dreadful seriousness etched into every line on her face. "Dean, we have to go inside…_now_!"

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**What can I say? I enjoy ending chapters on a suspensful note. You know you love it. Til next time... Adios.**


	10. New Info on Big Bad and the Gifted Ones

**Here's chapter ten, faithful readers. For the past couple of chapters or so, there's been more than a few chick-flick moments going on with what originally seemed like a rather Dean-esque character... don't worry, she is that way, but like Dean, she'll let her guard down for family... 'nough of my rambling... Enjoy the story.**

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The second Dean and Nadia re-entered the house, Nadia spun around and locked the back door tightly. When she finished she quickly backed away from the door, as if in fear that whatever had been watching them would come crashing through at any second. She gasped when she smacked into something a little too bumpy to be a wall. Whirling around, petrified eyes locked with Dean's; his strong hands returning to her upper arms. 

"Easy there, Dia… what the hell just happened? God, you're still trembling… c'mon." wrapping his arms around the disoriented huntress he led her to the parlor room where Sam sat typing away on his laptop. Stopping the shell-shocked girl, Dean grabbed the knitted quilt from the arm rest of the closest couch, draped it about Nadia's shoulders and sat down next to her, continuing his attempts to still the shaking huntress.

"What the hell happened…?" Sam began to ask, but Nadia's deer-in-headlights gaze landed on him and he understood within a matter of seconds. "Whoa, wait what… _It's_ here?"

Dean looked from his brother to the girl beside him and back again.

"Dude, what the hell are you talking about… no one said anything…" Nadia let out a loud, shuddering exhale looking at Dean once more.

"It'll be weird at first… but speaking out loud won't be _completely_ necessary between you and your brother for very much longer." She whispered, her face having now gone pale in terror, "And yes… Big Bad _is _here. Sammy… where's Missouri and Emily?"

"I dunno… they haven't come home yet." He admitted, realizing they'd been gone for hours; something was wrong. All three of them seemed to realize this at the same time, and if Nadia's current condition wasn't bad enough, it was about to get worse.

_No! No, no, no, no, no… No! Oh god, not tonight… don't take her from me tonight!_ She thought, dreading that any moment now they'd run out to go find them, only to find Emily's body in the street. She's become so lost in panic, the burning sensation in her lungs from acute hyperventilation felt like a dull and distant throbbing. Sam and Dean's worried voices were a hundred miles away from her; there was only one thing she could concentrate on: Emily.

For as little experience as Sam had with reading thoughts, he had clearly heard Nadia's mental scream of anguish just before she started hyperventilating. Everything was happening so fast, both young men were left with their heads spinning, especially Dean; it took his brother only a minute or two to figure out exactly why. It wasn't just that there were two people missing and possibly hurt, or that Big Bad was on the property, or the fact that Nadia was the key to keeping Sam alive and safe… Sam saw it in an instant as it flashed in his brother's eyes while he struggled to help the gifted huntress… he cared about her, really truly _cared_ about her.

"Sammy… what are you doing?" Dean asked as his brother maneuvered himself next to the girl.

Sam knelt down beside Nadia as she lay on her back gasping desperately for air, cupping her cheek with one hand; he closed his eyes and concentrated on her thoughts. _Nadia… Nadia… you need to calm down, we're going to find your sister. We won't let anything bad happen to either of you; I promise. But you need to calm down, you're hyperventilating and Dean and I are scared for you. We need you…and I know you need us._ In opening his eyes, he was met by the deep and still somewhat frightened brown orbs of Nadia Coltier; her labored breathing had begun to settle once more, but he could tell it would still hurt to try to speak.

_Go to my room, under the pillow, there are 13 bullets… we're going to need the Colt_. Sam's eyes widened at the gun's mention.

_What… how do you know we have the Colt_?

_Long story for another time, Sammy; just… HURRY!_ He nodded curtly as he stood, walking quickly from the room.

"Sammy… where—" Dean questioned as he saw the silent exchange of words between the two gifted hunters, he grew even more confused when his brother exited the room without a word. For as confused as he was, he was grateful to find that Nadia had more or less returned to normal and was no longer cold to the touch. Reclaiming his spot next to her, he inspected the huntress's condition. "So… in all this chick-flick-y drama that's been going down since we met; I never got the chance to ask what all… _abilities_ you have. Just out of curiosity, ya know."

Chuckling to herself, she subconsciously rubbed at her neck. "Oh… of course… mind-reading, thought projection, visions, telekinesis, power-cloaking, astral projection, empathic tendencies, aura detection… a few other odds and ends, to top it all off, I just recently discovered that Emily and I are the lost daughters of the Aztec's." She paused to catch her breath… wow, what a supernatural resume, of course she'd neglected to note her Colt story and healing ability… but that's not exactly something that needs to be addressed at the moment, "Apparently that last one is a pretty big deal. Having an Aztec witchdoctor as an ancestor… seems to have more perks than the life I'm already leading."

Both hunters laughed quietly, Dean finding himself slightly intimidated by a woman for the very first time in his life. _Is this chick for real?_ "What lit Sammy's heels on fire just now?"

"Ah that… one of my little secrets, if I told you… I'd have to kill you. All I can say is that… you'll have to _really_ trust me."

_I would, easily, if there wasn't that little possibility of Big Bad possessing you; then I'd do a lot more than just trust you…_

"Oh… you don't have to worry about that; I've been immune to possession for some time now…" she stalled as soon as she'd realized she's said too much, "Oops."

"Wait… immune to possession? How?"

"Uh… ha, um, well… ever hear of something called a Devil's Trap…?" She began to say before sensing the spark of recognition in her fellow hunter.

"Yea, Sammy, Mr. No-respect-for-the-appearance-of-other-people's-cars, drew a couple of those things on the Impala just before our first little run in with Big Bad." He mused, slightly peeved at the recollection, "Supposedly turns whatever object it's drawn on into some kind of lockbox that demons can't get into."

"Exactly… sort of; it can work that way with objects, keeping evil out, protecting what lies within. But when it comes to _people_…" mouth open, she racked her brain for a proper explanation, "it's kind of like an anti-possession, mouse-trap, if you will. Evil can't get through it, can't claim whatever the symbol is on… or in this case '_whoever_'. It's especially strong when permanently drawn…"

"… Like a tattoo…?"

"Precisely that, thrice strengthened when after the tat is slapped on… it's cleaned with holy water, by a priest." She concluded, oblivious to how excited she was that he was following her so closely.

"So, your little secret weapon is that you have one of those? Does Emily have one?" He grinned, _a chick with a tattoo… hot_.

"Haha… I've got two, actually; Em _does_ have one… hers is on her left wrist, easily hidden by a watch. We always thought that veiled discretion was the best possible tactic." She was practically beaming at this point, elated as hell that she could discuss these sorts of matters with someone her own age that did the same thing as her.

"Caution… always the best policy in our line of business." He affirmed, trying desperately to be serious, but his curiosity was getting the best of him, "Uh… can I ask _where_ _yours_ are?"

Chuckling softly to herself, she'd realized he'd found a way to get her shirt off without the situation getting steamy… or perhaps a lead into that direction. She'd have to; the shirt she'd been wearing wouldn't allow her to simply pull down the collar. So she lifted up the back of her shirt, pinning it up by tucking it on the front of her shoulders.

_WHAAT? I didn't even have to ask her to take her shirt off! That's just…hot! Keep it professional Dean, stay focused, priorities are straight, I'm focused, I'm… totally thrown off here… goddamn!_ She couldn't help but snigger at the thought that had come screaming from his mind, shivering ever so slightly at the touch of his rough hands on her bare skin. The fact that her back arched slightly as he lightly slid the tips of his fingers down her spine didn't help her sudden desire to turn around and have her way with him right then and there. But the sound of Sam's feet stomping down the stairs ripped her from her thoughts of feral conquest. Tugging her shirt back into place, she turned quickly, catching the older Winchester completely off guard with a quick, yet fiery kiss. "We'll have plenty of time for fun and games later… right now, we need to focus on where Missouri and Em are and how we're going to get them back without having some sort of confrontation with Big Bad."

As she left, she wasted no time in assessing how thrown off Dean was feeling, "Alright, tell Sammy I'll be in the kitchen in a minute…" the brother looked down at his pants quickly before correcting himself, "make that a couple of minutes."

* * *

Nadia walked quickly, all the while laughing silently to herself, _I love my power over men… I need to add that to my list of abilities: I bring men to their _knees! Just as she reached the front room she heard the faint clicking of keys turning in the lock of the front door. Swiveling to face the door with her head cocked to the side, she watched, almost dumbfounded, as Emily and Missouri piled through the door; arms loaded with brown paper grocery bags.

"Surprised to see us, baby?" the old reader implored as she hefted three bags into Nadia's arms. "Help an old woman out, Nadia. Sorry it took us so long, I remembered that the food supply was low and these boys eat like starved animals." She added after seeing the clear look of confusion and worry written on the girls face.

"… That and Mrs. Scott from down the street cornered us in the driveway; the woman _never shuts the fuck up_! I thought we'd never get inside…" Emily added as she wandered cautiously towards the kitchen, weighed down by more than just three brown sacks. _She's become too jumpy for my liking, too. Jumped and chided me for saying 'Christo, these things are heavy!'_

The color in her big sisters face drained, _she flinched at 'Christo'? Oh shit._ Forcing herself from her moment of paralysis, she nearly ran smack into Sam, "Here Sam, take these into the kitchen with Em." Passing the groceries in her arms to the young man, she gave him a displeased look; _we've got a problem, Sammy._

"This the last of it, Missouri?" She asked at the door when she walked through with a couple more bags in tow.

"Yea, could you get the door for me…?" She was almost surprised when Nadia had closed the door with a bit more gusto than intended, and locked it with lightening speed, all before Missouri had time to finish her request. "What's the matter, Nadia?"

Knowing their guardian would more than likely pick up on her mental explanation; she pivoted and charged for the kitchen, again nearly getting knocked on her ass by the lanky, younger Winchester.

"Sorry about that, Nadia." he chuckled whilst helping the huntress steady herself. She began to shake her head, not needing an apology; but the hunter had more on his mind than just an apology. _What the hell is going on, how do you know about the gun? Right now would be a good time to start talking._

She kept her gaze steady and stone-like as she reacted to his thoughts. "Your ability to project thoughts is very good… one less thing we'll have to cover, I guess."

_Stow the bullets for now, I'll give you a full explanation later; don't worry, I'm on your side…_she sighed when she realized that he wasn't backing down. Chewing on her bottom lip she rushed to devise some kind of plan. _Alright, give me a minute, I'll tell you what I know._

Walking back into the parlor she caught Dean just as he was getting up from the couch, "Hey there, tiger. Missouri and Em are back; at a guess they had a lot of food to acquire. Listen, why don't you help them put everything away, I'm going to give Sam another quick lesson… then we'll all sit down and figure out what to do about Big Bad, sound good?"

"Sounds like a plan." He affirmed.

She could still feel him, though, even when she was fully aware that her quick and quiet steps had put at least 5 feet between the two of them… she could still feel his eyes roaming, longing, hungering; she winced as she realized it wouldn't last long, bad news for the brothers wasn't far from finding them. One thing she knew for certain about the Winchester family… they would never be permitted to have happiness in their lives for long. _What am I doing…what have I done? They've already been dealt so much, why must I make it worse?_

Finding Sam waiting at the base of the stairs, she turned quickly, just in time to catch Dean disappearing entirely into the kitchen. Before Sam had time to question, she grabbed his hand and began running up the stairs to her room. "C'mon, Sammy; you want a talk… we're going where no one will pry."

Soundlessly, she pushed the door directly in front of the stairs open with a jab of her fingertips; releasing Sam as he took the final few steps into the room, staring dumbly at the arrangement as she hastily closed the door. The wall opposite the door seemed like any normal youth's room, a movie poster or two, high school diploma and graduation tassel placed with care on the little shelf above the full sized bed bearing a lavender and moss green quilt with matching pillows. Pivoting, he noted the wall behind him was covered in 'hunting' weapons, wherever they would fit—door aside. To his left was a closet turned at an odd angle, like there was some kind of hiding spot behind it; on the wall was countless internet articles tacked everywhere… past jobs, perhaps? The one to his right was halfway composed of shelving units going from the ground to the top on the ceiling, filled—as he observed—with all sorts of books; everything from various religious manuscripts to weapon/ammo almanacs, large collections of folklore reference books to encyclopedias concerning superstitions and mythical creatures. He even found a tattered and authentic copy of the Key of Solomon. The rest of said wall was shrouded in pictures of the sisters and numerous other people; ranging anywhere from when they were infants to their final years in high school, Missouri was in some of them, and kids their own age were in others. There was a young couple with dark hair and elated smiles from their infancy to when they appeared to be 8 or 9 years old… he figured they were the girls' parents. But he paused at one particularly familiar face in the pictures with them: Pastor Jim?

"How…" he began, reaching out to a picture Nadia cradling a sawed off shotgun in her arms, a smirk of triumph splitting her little face, while Jim's left hand proudly clasped her left shoulder; Emily sat at her sisters feet on what looked to be a gravestone, shielding her eyes from the sun, chubby face scrunched up from the bright sunlight.

"Un…" she sighed before attempting her answer a second time, "how do we know Pastor Jim?" he nodded expressionlessly.

"… Father Jim Murphy… was my mom's big brother," biting her lip—yet again—she fought back rebellious tears, warding off most of her emotions, "Uncle Jim; we went to live with him after our parents were murdered… until I had my first vision, then we came here."

Purely by glancing at the younger man, she could surmise that he was having a hard time piecing it all together. Her weakening hold on her emotions dictated that it was time for a subject change, besides; he wanted an explanation from her concerning other manners. "Enough on that subject for now, Sammy… you wanted to talk about something else?"

Before his awed appearance melted back to the stern one from earlier, his eyes went soft and apologetic, _I'm sorry… about what happened to him…_ "Yea," he cleared his throat loudly, "well, at least now I know you're not on the opposing side of all this. But I'd like to know…"

_He looks so much like Mary, I wonder if he got to know her at all?_ She thought as a frown tugged at her lips.

"What… Mary, you mean my mom? You knew my mom… how?" he demanded frantically, stepping quickly towards the startled huntress, subjecting her to his most powerful and pleading puppy dog look. She held up a hand, silencing him as she motioned for him to sit down next to her on the bed.

"I—I only met her twice, briefly… I was a baby. Mom and Dad had Missouri watching me the first time; mom was going into labor with Emily, Missouri had needed to get something from the store… she'd wandered off to find something, and left me in the grocery cart." Tears sparkled as she smiled sadly at the memory, amazed she could remember something from such a young age, "Mary saw me sitting there, all alone, just kicking my legs and smiling at every little thing I saw around me… she thought I'd been abandoned there, kept talking to me so I didn't get scared—I wasn't, but she didn't know that—I remember her voice… it was light, loving, soft like a summer breeze…"

Pausing, the dazzling blue of Mary's eyes momentarily froze all her thoughts; when the blue faded, she found herself staring at Sam who looked like he was on the verge of crying himself. "She had a little boy with her, about my age… I assume that was Dean, he was pretty sweet too, for a one year old; I swear, I thought he was a girl with that _hair_, it was like looking at a MiniMe of your mother, same air of kindness, same eyes. He held my hand until Missouri came back with arms full of baby food."

Both chuckled lightheartedly at the mental image of Missouri balancing a ton of Gerber goo. "Anyway, that was the first time I met her…"

"And the second…" asked the eager and hopeful young man, "what happened the second time?" brows stitched together, she flashed a weak smile.

"The second time, about two years later… my mother needed Missouri's advice on a vision she'd had; I don't know what it was about, Missouri doesn't talk about it. As fate would have it… Mary had gone to consult the old poop about a vision of her own at the same time; she brought Dean with her, they both recognized me right away. I'd been in the 'waiting room' holding Emily, they both came and sat on either side of me; her stomach was just starting to show that she was pregnant. I let Dean hold Emmy while your mother and I talked, I remember she hugged me while asking about Emily… saying that soon Dean would have a younger sibling, too. I remember her asking what I thought she should name you… Dean wanted your name to be _Francis_…" emphasizing Francis she grimaced and shuddered, eliciting a snort from Sam.

"…my middle name, actually…" Sam grumbled, turning a little red in embarrassment.

"Oh, jeez…" berating herself she felt herself shrink a little bit, _Samuel Francis Winchester… not bad_, "well, at least it sounds better than my full name…"

Sam's head shook slowly as he waited for her to further explain that point. Rolling her eyes she quickly mumbled, "Nadia Grace Coltier… Anyway, so she asked me what I thought… and for some _odd_ reason, Green Eggs and Ham popped in my head. So, I said Sam… Samantha if it's a girl. I guess I did a pretty good job at picking names, huh?"

He began to nod his head when he realized something he'd overlooked before, something he'd never even thought of, something he'd never known… "Wait a minute… did you say _my_ mom had a vision!"

The girl seemed genuinely shocked at the outburst, actually, she was more surprised by the fact that he hadn't known about his mother's abilities. "… y-yes…"

"Vision as in… she had abilities, kind of vision!" he cried incredulously, a tone which the huntress didn't necessarily respond well to.

Scoffing she replied, "Yes, Sam… where'd you think you got your powers, your dad? Cuz, these things don't just randomly happen… children aren't randomly born gifted. You no better than me that there is no such thing as coincidence, and random happenings are a damn rarity! All gifted children are born that way because their mothers are gifted… I figured you had already realized that."

He sat quietly, stunned, mouth open in shock; her tone softened and her demeanor returned to being cold and mournful. "I mean, why do you think _He_ usually attacks _just_ the mothers? I know he's made a few exceptions over the years, but mainly, he sticks to mothers for a reason."

"So… mom… Jessica… their deaths _were_ all my fault?" he asked dryly, an old yet ever consuming guilt laced his words; instead of finding herself feeling sorry for Sam… she wanted to smack the notion out of his head.

"_Sammy_, no… listen, you gotta understand: when It took your mom… when It takes most of his victims… he's lashing out at our kind when we're _infants_; when we can't do a damn thing to change the situation. What could we do? Sleep, cry, eat, crap ourselves, be adorable or the ugliest goddamn baby anyone's ever seen… but think 'Hmm, this is going to hurt my family and screw us over in the long run… maybe I should try to be normal?'" she shook her head, hoping to drive the message home, "Sam, the coward knew as infants we were powerless to stop him, and our abilities would be dormant for another few years."

"And Jessica… your dad… what about them? She had nothing to do with this life… she didn't even know I do any of this stuff!" she was growing rather weary of how he provoked her with his testiness… quickly, especially at the mention of her father.

"Just like he told you, Sam; they got in the way, they found loopholes… they gave us the happiness and hope that Big Bad intends on starving us of. He took Jessica because whether she knew what you really do or not… she would have still loved you. He took both my parents because they figured out a way around him, and being pwned like that apparently doesn't make him too happy." Nadia began to resent herself for letting her emotions get the best of her so much and so many times that day; this war was taking everything she had left, everything they had left, and was ripping it away from them, tearing everything to shreds in their faces, mocking them with their pains. _How did everything…no, I know the reason, I know how it happened, and I'll die destroying what caused all this if need be_.

"I don't know about you, Sammy… but, I'm not about to lie down and let him get the desired results from his assault. I'm going to fight him, not just for destroying _my_ life… but for the countless others he's ruined, for the ones that are still crumbling. I'll do whatever it takes; I already know what I won't have in the end… I've got nothing left to lose, so why bother holding anything back?" _THERE we go…THAT is the real me, back in ass-kicking mode_. _Sweet_.

"Alright then, well… in the spirit of not holding anything back," he said, returning to what they had originally snuck away from everybody for, "why don't you explain to me how you knew about the Colt, and what the hell is the deal with these 13 bullets?"

"They keep the Colt from expiring for a little while longer." She retorted sarcastically, "You know the basic story behind the Colt, yes?"

"Yea…"

"Or, at least, you know _part_ of the real story; just the part that would make any hunter secretly hope they stumble upon the gun in order to make their next 5 or 6 hunts easy…" she leaned back on her bed, supporting herself on her elbows with her head cocked to the side, "only three people in the world know the entire story… and that's three people as of two days ago; before that Emily and I were it's only keepers. Well, it all started around the time the Colt disappeared and Samuel Colt died, when his three grandson's became the first demon hunters in their family…" she recanted, it dawned on her at that moment that the wheels of fate were quickly gaining speed; and the possibility of beating bits of their fate didn't seem so far fetched. It was then and there, in that moment, when Nadia flashed and held the first genuine smile she'd shown in years.

* * *

**: wicked cackling, followed by sputtering and coughing: Ngghh... note to self: tone the cackling down a little bit, for health reasons... Hehe, gettin' good, isn't it? To the readers sticking by this story as the craziness escalates each chapter... love you, you're awesome. I'm now officially at the point in my fic where my muse usually abandons me and I find myself bitch slapped by writer's block. Anybody have any thoughts or suggestions as to how you'd like the next chapter or two to go? Please run'em by me, I love writing this story and would like to continue to do so. I've got ideas for a little bit further down the road of the story, but I need a filler. If you can help me... I can't promise a cookie, sticker, or hug... but you'll have a little line of personal thanks tacked to the beginning of each chapter... until I die, I dunno. Anyway, if you can help... please do. Thanks!  
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	11. Visions and Guys Named Jebidia

**Mah-HA! Just as promised, a new update! I dunno 'bout you guys, but I love updates. They're great. _And_** **as promised, my eternal thanks to those that offered their assistance when I arrived at my possible bout of writer's block: **

**mcmanusbaby90- Grazi for the support and wonderful idea(s), and special thanks for the honorable mention on your homepage... no-one's ever described me as a great writer(in a way where I could find out, anyway) before, so, it was very touching, humbling, and... yea before a chick-flick moment ensues, lol... Thanks.**

**IHeartJensen- Thank you for your enthusiasm, but of course there will be _plenty_ more Dean-action coming up... I seem to be a sucker for fluff moments with him... and there might be more, possible a need for rating change kind of more... :D**

**Ty3- Last but _definitely_ not least, thank you very much for your imput. You raised some very good questions which, in turn, brought some geek-out worthy ideas to mind. All I can say is... in due time, my friend, but it'll be... wow.**

**These guys have inspired some really great material for more than just the chapter below, but a few chapters that will follow shortly... and not so shortly. My darling readers, just seeing how many hits this story is getting has given me insomnia; I can't sleep without typing out at LEAST half a chapter each night! You guys rock, seriously, hardcore! Anyway... what's going on... OH YEA! New chapter, enjoy!**

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"… and that's how we know you have the Colt." Nadia concluded, of course she substituted how she'd found them on the side of the road after the Mack truck rammed them with 'Oh, I had a vision about it' in explanation as to how she knew that the Winchester brother's had the gun. She still wasn't exactly sure why she couldn't reveal that she was the one to call an ambulance for them as they lay dying in Dean's car, but she'd figured in the time since that she'd be extra careful to keep it a secret until the reason finally did make itself known.

"Wow, Samuel Colt's descendant is teaching me to control my powers… that's pretty cool." Sam said as he ran a hand through his wild hair.

"It might seem, to an outsider, that we're cool… but being a Coltier…? It's anything but."

"So how many bullets do you guys have… specifically for the Colt?" grinning, Nadia stood from the bed, walked over to the closet, and in opening the doors motioned to two large black squares that covered half of each door. After plucking at a couple of black strings attached to the top of said squares, he gaped in amazement as the both unfolded, revealing what looked like more than 600 bullets… on each side, "OH. MY. GOD."

"Haha, and these are only the ones Emmy and I have made over the years… we used to have every single Coltier bullet ever made since the days of Caldwell Hart Colt… but they were lost in the fire." As a reaction to her discomfort concerning the subject, she quickly turned and refolded the sheets of bullets, and gently closed the closet. She froze where she stood, though, hands still on the door handles, face inches from the pale wood.

"_Still_, that's more than enough to do some serious damage to Big Bad and his bitches." Sam's voice was still laden with awe, though he was trying his best to lift her spirits again.

"I know, Sammy, I'm just…" she paused, searching for the right words, but when they were no-where to be found she simply smiled, shook her head and let her sarcasm take over, "I'm just a _little_ weird, that's all."

"I see right through that crap… you and Dean are both terrible at hiding the way you feel… of course he's also really bad at actually expressing his feelings, too." This comment, however, got the huntress laughing; Sam had to grin and take note of his small victory.

"C'mon Sammy-boy, they're probably downstairs wondering where in the _hell_ we are."

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Meanwhile, down in the kitchen… Dean aids Missouri and Emily in storing the last of the groceries, and just as he's about to take a seat at the kitchen table, he cries out in the pain resulting from a beating by wooden spoon, "Ahh, what the hell's with you!"

"Dean Winchester, I _know_ the way you treat the women you meet on the road… and if I _ever_ hear that you dared treat Nadia like the others in ANY way… you'll be begging me to go back to _just_ using this spoon!" She scolded, emphasizing every other word with a shake of the wooden object.

"What the hell are you talking about? I didn't… OW!" he yelled as she smacked him again.

"Boy, first of all… don't cuss at me! Secondly, don't you lie… I see the way you are around her, and it seems you forget, Mr. Winchester… I _can_ read minds!" she bellowed at one rather despondent looking Dean Winchester.

"Ok, fine, fine, I promise… just put that torture device away already!" Emily sat across the table, sniggering at the pleading hunter; who looked utterly miserable, not only was Missouri beating him with the wooden spoon she'd always threatened him with every time he visited or talked with the fortune teller… but she was doing so with a purpose and an audience.

Seeing that her message had been successfully received, she returned the weapon to the drawer, as she did so, Dean—whilst rubbing his aching head—turned to the huntress eyeing him humorously, "Remind me to hide that thing when she's not around." Emily simply laughed harder as she nodded her agreement.

Everything went silent as death when the three in the kitchen heard the thunderous footsteps of the other two hunters descending the staircase. Nadia came in first, Sam followed closely behind, and both looked somewhat drained and dazed. The older girl stopped short of the table by a mere six, maybe seven feet, head cocked to the side with her gaze cemented on nothing in particular. In his failure to take notice of the sudden halt, Sam rammed firmly into Nadia with such a force that she _should_ have been knocked on her face, but she didn't move, not in the slightest.

"Dia…?" Emily asked cautiously, leaping up from her place at the table. Her sister just continued to stand there, seemingly frozen.

'**_Nadia Coltier? I'm Dr. Hadley of the Sarasota, Florida coroners office_**_…**I'm terribly sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but**…_**' She felt the blood in her veins freeze, thinking that Emily was hurt… and in Florida for some reason, '_There's been an accident, Ms. Coltier_**_…**Cristin Camden had your number labeled as one of her ICE contact's**_**.' She'd released the breath she hadn't been aware she was holding, Emily was safe… she could deal with anything else, just so long as Em was safe, '_Nadia_**_… **I'm afraid Ms. Camden wasn't able to make it**…**I'm sorry for your loss**_**.'**

**FLASH!**

**Next thing she knew, Nadia realized she was standing in a church seized by the color black. Her eyes quickly scanned the large room, most of the people present were complete strangers, others…she hadn't seen them since high school. 'Nadia, thanks for coming…you and Cristin had always been close, she would be glad knowing you were here.' Harold Camden whispered, greeting the young huntress warmly; the lawyer had never looked so tired and broken. For as long as she'd known Cristin and her father, they'd always been the type of people Nadia fondly referred to as _forever glamorous and beautiful_, but now Harold looked like he hadn't slept in a month, and Cristin… Cristin was dead. **

**As the wheels in her head turned, and she mulled over past memories of the two Camden's who she'd damn near considered family for over a decade, Nadia finally realized she was walking… walking towards the glossy mahogany coffin, accompanied by a large picture of the beautiful young blond girl once full of such promise and potential sitting on a thin bronze picture stand, coffin covered in a rather large and fancy arrangement of multicolored roses symbolizing every type of love. Placing her hand gently where she assumed her deceased friend's head might be, she finally felt the dam break loose; the tears fell freely, rapidly. 'Cristin…' she'd sobbed, and not too quietly, 'I'm sorry…I'm sorry I couldn't be there to protect you, I'm sorry I couldn't be there to save you…'**

**She knew her friend's passing had been Big Bad's work, he was beginning to kill those she'd held dear…cynically she realized there really weren't that many people he could go after, most of them had already died. After a moment or two, she regained her composure; her voice went cold and determined. 'I promise you, I vow on your coffin, Cristin…he'll pay, I'll join you in making sure he pays if I have to…' sniffling, she sensed the presence of an elderly lady approaching behind her, 'Cristin, though it came far too early…rest peacefully, as the angels hold you and sing sweetly as you sleep.'**

**The lady had placed a consoling hand on her shoulder, had the woman not already been crying when she approached Nadia, she would have broken down upon viewing the misery and helplessness on the huntress' face. 'That was beautiful, my child… did you write that yourself?'**

**Attempting a weak smile, she nodded tiredly, 'Yes, at my parent's funeral when my little sister and I were kids.' Nadia didn't necessarily care to witness the woman's reaction, so, as she finished she quickly turned and rushed out of the church; having suddenly become embarrassed and ashamed, she'd gone to her best friend's funeral in torn black plants and black threadbare sweater that hung loosely off one shoulder… everyone else in the church—sans priest—wore expensive designer mourning wear. She remembered slamming her body mercilessly at the large front doors of the church, bright light poured in and hit her harder than she'd hit the doors, and with that…she was thrown back into the present.**

"_Nadia_!" Emily yelled, shaking her entranced sister once more. Nadia shook the haziness from her vision, blinked a few times and looked dumbfounded at her sister.

"What's up?" She asked distantly.

"Where were you just now, Nadia?" Em questioned, biting her lip as she anticipated Nadia's reply.

"Another vision?" Dean asked, suddenly appearing at her right side… or had he been there all along?

"Yes… n—sorta…" She stuttered sadly, not particularly wanting to elaborate.

"Meaning…" Nadia huffed lightly, Emily was pressing the matter… she was _always_ pressing the matter at hand.

"Meaning it _was_ a vision, but it had nothing to do with you or our job, it was about an old friend of mine…" She surmised, refusing to meet any of the concerned pairs of eyes that she could feel were boring into her, "…and _no_, I _don't_ want to talk about it."

The only person she finally looked back at, about five minutes later was Sam. No silent exchange of words was made, no special looks describing how she felt, nothing; but the young hunter recognized a nagging feeling of guilt and sadness that he'd weighed himself down with for the past year, "So Big Bad's on the loose here in Lawrence… any of us have a good idea on what to do about it?"

"We can't just sit around here and wait for him to find a loophole and get us, that's for damn sure." Dean offered, scrubbing a hand roughly down his face.

Emily looked wearily in Dean's direction before turning her gaze back to the two gifted hunters in front of her, "But at the same time, we're not ready to fight him… look at you guys, you're still _very_ much on the mend; and Sam needs to grasp his powers a little better before he can be ready for whatever comes next… I vote Nadia and I do what we can until you boys are ready."

"Emmy, I brought you here to be safe… and throwing you out there amidst the bitches that go bump in the night is _not_ my idea of safe. Though, you do have a good point… none of us are ready, were we'd usually throw caution and preparation to the wind and go face our demons…" she stood abruptly, and went to pace behind the kitchen island, mentally going over each and every option they had, "…right now, our best option is, whether we like it or not, staying put until something else comes our way; something beneficial, that is."

"Like…?" Emily inquired with frustration, curiously taking note of how calm and quiet Missouri was being next to her.

Nadia thought for a moment longer, realizing they actually _did_ have one extra card up their sleeves. She watched happily as Emily subconsciously rubbed at her Devil's Trap tattoo, "Well, it'll take a few days for him to get here… but Jebidia." At the mention of the strange name, both Emily and Missouri joined Nadia in looking extremely satisfied.

"…uh, ok… who is this Jebidia person?" Dean demanded, looking rather unhappy at the situation he was finding himself in.

"Jebidia Leroy, is a new age priest from Jamaica… an _old_ friend of Missouri's, we met him when we were still living in Minnesota, he's the one who did our tattoo's… and he made the protection charm that you wear, Dean, _years_ ago. He provides the ultimate demonic protection, normally he doesn't travel for anybody, he's fairly adamant in making it known how much he detests traveling anywhere… but for Missouri as well as Emmy and myself, given the word he'd travel to the ends of the earth." And with a wicked grin she got up from the table, and picked up her cell phone, "Now… if you'll excuse me, I've got some calls that need to be made…"

As she pivoted and whipped herself around, Dean couldn't help but be captivated by her as the crimson colored ribbon flew about her face, crowning the smile that bewitched him; alongside his enchantment, he relented into agreeing with their plan—like everyone else—concerning this 'Jebidia' character.

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Closing the door behind her, she knew she would call old Jebidia… in time; but first, she had another, more pressing, call to make. Her mind hazed slightly as her fingers numbly fumbled with the buttons, blindly finding her way to a number she hadn't searched for in years… almost as long as she'd dialed Emily's. Her hand seemed to take on a life of its own, trembling as it brought the cell to her ear, bringing to her consciousness the familiar ring tone and the memory of a voice almost forgotten.

'Hello…' a half gasp, half sob escaped her as she heard the greeting.

"Hi, Harold… its Nadia, little Nadia Coltier…"

'Nadia, my dear girl!' he cried warmly, remembering instantly the gangly youth and her kind face, belying a secret stealth and even more secret lethal ability, 'How are you doing these days, Nadia? It's been…'

"Too long," her face scrunched in pain, but relaxed quickly in fear of the man sensing her pained expression, "I'm doing as well as can be expected; I've reconciled with my sister since the last time we saw each other." A lie and only she knew it, "Just wondering how the only lawyer I'll ever respect is doing…"

'Same as you Nadia: as well as can be expected. I'm trying to stay busy, you know, bury myself in my work… but business in these parts have never been and never will be busy enough when desperately needed.' She could tell he was on the verge of a break down, and trying to cover it with nervous laughter, 'Have you tried contacting my daughter recently?'

"I have, sir… but you know how she is, always off being the life of the party somewhere; it's been difficult to nab her attention…" she held the phone a few inches from her face as she wiped furiously at her face, "but I'll keep trying, and I'll let you know as soon as I get something."

'Alright… well, I'll let you go; you said you're back with Emily, you probably want to spend as much time with her as you can right now.'

"Yea… it was good speaking with you again, Mr. Camden."

'Anytime, Ms. Coltier' and the line went dead. Sighing, her head fell in defeat, not wanting to have made the call, not wanting the stiff, uncomfortable conversation that had been made to go down. But now it was over, it was behind her, and she was free to make the call that could save the brothers; if anyone else, it could help and save them.

'Nahd-ya Col-tee-ehr… I been expectin' a phone call from ya, child. What took ya so long, me wonder?'

"Hey Jebidia," sigh, "listen… I need your help, some friends of mine…"

'Don' lie to me 'bout da Ween-chesta boys, I know 'bout da role dey been playin' en ya life… why do ya tink I made that charm your Dean wears, why I gave ya TWO Devil's Traps when I only gave little Eh-mily one?' Shaking her head, she absently rubbed at her right shoulder blade, noticing for the first time that there was a dull aching laced over it. 'Girlie girl, ees that shoulder steel botherin' ya aft-er all theese ye-ars?'

"Yea, Jebidia, it still annoys me from time to time."

'Hmm, you an' me have mah-ch ta talk a-bout when I geht dere, don' we now Nahd-ya?' he waited for a response, the only one made was Nadia nodding her head in frustration, 'Then I'll be seein' you girls an' dem Ween-chesta boys en a few dees, huh?'

"Yes, sir… uh, around Tuesday, yes?"

'Tues-dee, child.' Before she knew it, or had time to say anything else, Jebidia, too, had hung up on her.

Her head shot back up, the huntresses 'if-looks-could-kill-you'd-be-a-corpse-at-my-feet' game face was thrown back up as she heard the soft click of the doorknob turning and being pushed open. But when her eyes landed on the sympathetic face which greeted her, her guard tumbled downwards and a stiff grin took its place, "Hey you…"

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**Yep, that's right people... I've decided to give one of my characters my first name... doh. shit. most of you didn't know that... oh well, now you do! But yea, _that_ character will be explanded in the next chapter, and she will have a role to play... just not really the one you'd... expect. yea. Anyway, this kinda got written totally out of sequence, it was ch. 13 first then this one and at the moment I'm perfecting and finishing chapter 12, which should be up soon... maybe at the end of the day... yea, that sounds about right. I'm rambling, I'll stop... P.S. Mitzi the cat will be making a return soon, for the Mitzi-lovers out there.  
**


	12. Old Wounds and Wounds to Come

**Yay, new chapter! Sorry it took a bit longer to finish than I thought... I kinda slept through sunday... oops, lol.** **You guys have asked for some kind of attack from big bad... and well, it's coming... might be in this chapter, maybe in the next... you'll just have to read to find out. But I can tell ya right now... shit's startin to come together and it's only going to get more crazy from this point on. Again, thanks mcmanusbaby90, Ty3, IHeartJensen and now Tonya for the kind words/suggestions; you guys add fuel to the fire. So for ALL my lovelies... more chapters! **

**love. CS**

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As Nadia walked slyly from the group of hunters and psychics, she subconsciously rubbed at her right shoulder. Up til that moment, the only visible signs of weariness or weakness the boys had seen were how she was physically affected by the idea of Emily being either hurt, lost, in danger, or dead. The boys exchanged nervous glances, and then turned to both Missouri and Emily demanding explanation.

"What?" Emily asked after enduring a few minutes of their scrutinizing inspection, she was clearly irked by their looks; having never been comfortable with being watched.

"What's the deal with her shoulder?" Sam gave Emily a curious glance, noting how she clung tighter to the leather journal in her grip as the words came tumbling from his mouth. She waited a moment or two, collecting her thoughts before she opened up to say anything.

"She was ten… at the time…"

_FLASHBACK_

_A nine year old Emily Coltier had been sitting idly on Pastor Jim's front porch, she'd been there for hours, not moving, not speaking, not taking any of the food or drink that their priest uncle had offered her in her time at that single spot. As memory served, her ass had gone numb hours before and it annoyed her terribly, but not knowing where her sister was annoyed her even more. So her physical pains were pushed away to make room for pains of the heart._

"_She'll show up, Emmy," Jim had said, more to convince himself than her, "Nadia is more than capable of taking care of herself… even in the more drastic situations she puts herself in." Nadia had disappeared five days earlier, saying that she was going to go make sure that the monster they'd heard was in the area wasn't scoping out the church grounds… saying she'd be right back, it would take five minutes…tops. But she didn't come back that day._

_Suddenly, as silence began to fill the void between the cleric and the young girl once again, Emily caught sight of movement out in the cemetery. Grabbing her uncles pant leg, she urged him to accompany her out there while picking up the sawed off shotgun tucked tightly behind her feet, nodding his approval to the child, he activated the flashlight between her and the pillar where the porch railing began. They gotten as far as 40 feet into the cemetery when Emily cried out, having sharper senses than Jim and an indescribably acute sense of vision, which only the sisters shared, "DIDI!"_

_Ripping her hand from Jim's grasp, she ran with all her strength fueling the movement in her heels into the darkness; leaving their uncle standing there, blinking dumbly, holding a flashlight in front of him thinking just as dumbly, that it would be enough to light Emily's way. On the other end of the group of plots, Emily collapsed in her sisters arms; not taking the time to pay any attention to the strange man beside her, though, she took plenty of time to notice the sores and gashes littering her shoulder blades. Had Nadia not been in so much pain, she would have laughed at how silly her kid sister looked at the moment; she'd never seen her look so confused in her life. "DiDi… w-what happened?"_

_She later discovered that she'd run into the mysterious guy, who looked like some old and scrappy voodoo priest, in the woods… seconds later they had been separated and ambushed by an Erlking, the creature they had feared was lurking in the forest of the church grounds. From what Nadia had been saying the man… who turned out to be old Jebidia, had rushed in just as Erlking was beginning to harm the young girl, he'd only gotten as far as propping the young huntress up by the ropes binding her wrists and had been beating and scratching mercilessly at the girls back, as some sort of twisted pre-consumption torture. He'd clawed and punched at little Nadia, time after time; she never screamed, having it on good authority that he was the only one of his kind anywhere near her and her small family… so long as it wasn't her little Emmy in her place, the pain of the claws and blows wouldn't bother her, not yet anyway. Her mind had become weary from pushing the pain aside, her vision began to blur as well, she was more then ready to turn around and kick the crap out of the nasty little Erlking, but her feet felt like they were made of lead and were keeping her legs from making any bit of movement._

_That's when Jebidia appeared, whispering some form of foreign chants, the creature was screaming as a result. In a freak kick of adrenaline, she lifted both her feet and knocked the creature in the head so forcefully that its head quite literally exploded when it made impact with the large stone behind it. And that's the exact condition in which little Emily found her sister and the old man._

_Afterwards, the old man was invited to stay at the rectory for as long as he wanted out of Emily and Jim's gratitude for saving the young huntress. He'd personally over seen Nadia's recovery, with the aid of his own personal herbs and voodoo spells; listening and laughing mirthfully at the animated stories the girls were more than happy to share with him about past hunts and monsters they'd encountered in the young lives, they'd even shared the story of their parents death. When she was fully healed, he offered her a source of ultimate protection from the entity that destroyed their family… needless to say, the girls agreed._

_In the time since, they had all believed that he'd given Nadia two Devil's Traps to cover up most of the scars on her shoulders as well as to alleviate a grand majority of the pain she knew would always be present from the malicious beating she'd received. For years, she'd been thankful for the ink in her skin, no one had ever been able to pick up on the faint scars underneath, no one had questioned her; she never had a reason to be self-conscious or nervous about the torture marks that remained, and Jebidia had become a very dear friend and contributor of information and supplies._

_END OF FLASHBACK_

"…Wow." Sam managed as comprehension slow set in.

"Yea… and it explains the whole story behind this Jebidia guy, too. So her shoulders… they're her Achilles Heel? Dangerous information to be dealing out Emily," the huntress shot him a challenging/surprised look as he chided her, "What if somehow that stuff falls into the wrong hands? I don't want to admit it any more than you do, but… what if…"

"No, she trusts you guys; a hard thing to win, believe me… but if she can trust someone, I know _I_ can trust that person as well." The way her words rang out in the confines of the humble kitchen more than signified to the boys that, that particular discussion was over.

"Right, well, whatever you girls feel most comfortable with… speaking of Nadia… she's making one _long_ assed phone call…" Dean could feel Emily's glare as he stood, she'd never seen anyone brush off her verbal explosions with such ease… this Dean-guy was alright. "If you guys don't mind… I'm going to go check on the girl; excuse me, ladies."

Sam's irritated cough caused his brother to roll his eyes, "… Samantha." He added rigidly as he exited the room.

---

Even as Dean entered the room, he could feel steely eyes turn towards him; eyes that soften greatly when he maneuvered himself through the door completely. He didn't even really need to look for the lump of clothing, flesh and blood red hair… it was slumped against the wall a foot or two away from the door. Her voice was sweet as usual, but there was an uncharacteristic sense of hopelessness, of pain unspoken, "…Hey you."

"Hey," he cooed after quickly shutting the door behind him as quietly as he could and swooped down to be eye level with her, he could tell by the ragged puffiness and red irritated coloring of her eyes that she'd been crying. Pulling her close, Dean let her bury her face in the crook of his neck, allowing his one hand to run freely through the blood tinted strands of hair while his other hand kept her steady, "hey… what's wrong?"

The feel of hot tears ran down his chest, having just missed his shirt, sent a feeling of fire trailing after them, leaving behind the tiny hairs standing straight up in a half-way aroused state; all these things going hand in hand with a single sniffle, like she couldn't possibly allow herself more than that. "I… don't think I'm ready to talk about it _just_ yet, there are some things I still need to figure out for myself… but…"

"When you're ready to talk about them, I'll be right there ready to listen… ok?" he chuckled lightly when she nodded and stiffly, wiped at her face; there was a childlike element to it that he just couldn't describe, "Okay… this your room?" another nod, "Cool room, I really dig the weapons display… dork that he is, Sam would probably appreciate that library you've got going on over there."

She giggled softly as he pointed to her bookshelves, Sam _had_ been rather impressed. "How'd the call with Jebidia go?"

Clearing her throat, she straightened her posture, erasing most traces that she'd been showing any form of human emotion; it almost scared Dean how quickly she could go from being a normal human being with emotional reactions and chick-flick moments to a near robotic warrior of light, the arch-nemesis of demons and anything else slightly evil. "It went well, he'll be here sometime Tuesday… until then, I'd say our best bet is just staying here, sitting tight, letting you boys heal as much as you can; we all need to prepare ourselves for the worst, you know… war isn't just casualties in our line of business, Big Bad and his _associates_ will be playing every card they've got. They'll be looking for ways to weaken us, break us even; we can't let them." She sounded more like she was going through a weapon inventory list than laying harsh reality out on the line, "Dean, there's something I need to show you, tell you about…"

Getting up from her spot next to the door, she opened up her closet doors; unveiling the dual black squares and tugged at the little black strings at the top of said squares. "…we know you and Sam have the Colt… I hope this will be enough to help you a bit with using it…"

---

Sam and Emily had been sitting quietly at the kitchen table since Dean had left, Missouri—being the buzzing ball of energy the woman was in the kitchen—had jumped at the moment of silence as an opportunity to get dinner started. Sam kicked quietly at his own shoe, studying the patterns in the wood of the table, whilst Emily was deeply concentrated with having her nose buried in her uncle's journal once more. "So… that's your uncle—I mean, _Pastor_ Jim's journal?"

Em arched an eyebrow as if she hadn't even really been listening, bobbling her head slowly she replied in a soft, quick grunt. Then her head shot up faster than a speeding bullet_…Wait a minute… did he just ask what I…_

"Nadia told me… actually, I saw a picture of you guys with him as kids." He replied with a grin, the Emily's expression of shock eliciting a chuckle from her fellow hunter.

"Oh…" came the haunting whisper.

"Can I ask you something?" _Shoot_ "Do you _know_ about…"

"Our family's little curse…? Yea, I know, not the greatest news I've ever gotten… but hey, I drew the short straw so to speak, right?" Sam thought he'd been unsettled by Nadia's acceptance of her kid sister's fate… Emily's calm reaction left him feeling as if he were naked in the middle of a college football field with the stands crowded.

"…and you're okay with it? Don't you want there to be a way out of it… some loophole that allows you to live through all this?" He was awarded a small comfort when he watched her body stiffen as his words collided with her thoughts, wanting desperately to release a cry of victory at the inner conflict he witnessed in her. Emily sat silently for a minute or two, scanning her mind for an answer as her eyes flicked left to right while she stared at the table between them like it was possessed.

"Growing up in our family… living forever was always a fairy tale to me, just like all the stories Dia would tell me every night until I fell asleep. We always _knew_ that we'd never reach old age…" her voice broke and her eyes watered, but she kept her quivering chin high, the conviction she felt stood strong, "but we were _never_ afraid of our fate; we never cowered. So when she found out a few days ago that _I'm not_ going to make it out of this… it must have been the first time I've seen her truly afraid since our parents died. But I wasn't and I refuse to be, DiDi and I always said that the saddest death was one of a life unlived," she swallowed hard, glaring at her hands momentarily before continuing, "so… I would have reason for fear, I would be right to panic _if_ I had never run… _if_ I had never taken it upon myself to wander and reveal the world to myself all on my own. I know, Nadia would rather it be her in my place; but honestly… she's the gifted one, she's the one who's just _recently_ found her first _love_, possibly her _only_ love!" her last sentiment confused Sam a little bit, something which he couldn't even begin to attempt hiding.

"…W-what… you lost me on that last… thing…" huffing in frustration, Emily glared at Sammy like he'd just been badmouthing her sister.

"Oh _come on_, Sammy… you're smarter than that! The way they look at each other? The way they react to every single move the other makes? Not to mention Missouri gave him a good wallop or two with her wooden spoon daring him to ever do her wrong! She _actually_ used that thing!" Sam threw a shocked and surprised look at Missouri, the readers only reaction was a quick grin and an innocent shrug. "Nadia's _never_ been in love… she throws too much of herself into her work for that stuff. Not to mention these…" Emily exclaimed heatedly as she plopped her uncles journal down in front of him, pointing at one paragraph in one particular entry, then pointing to a piece of paper that had a single piece of tape binding it to the journal's blank page. "Read them."

"_It was a warning, Nadia, 15 years before hand. It goes as followed: when the time comes, of the two heiresses, one will die and the last will take her place as the love and living armory to the rightful owner of her family's gun. Together, they are the light's last hope…_" he recited in a slightly monotone voice.

"And the second one…" The girl demanded.

"_The awaited holy one has come… She has found them, and it… together they will destroy It; they, the lights only hope… it has begun…_ok, cryptic; what the hell does it mean and where did they come from?" Emily was actually flabbergasted for a moment, _what the hell… really?_

"The first one… Nadia had been screaming it when she had her first vision at Jim's. She screamed the other one when we were arriving in Lawrence a few days ago while having the _same exact_ vision… Nadia said that revisiting a vision 15 years after the last time it hits is virtually impossible; and no, the screams weren't in English."

"What language was it?"

"Ancient Aztec…" the huntress deadpanned before running a weary hand coarsely down her face, "Nahuatl to be exact, pretty much a dead language. I dunno, I guess our Aztec ancestors preprogrammed these messages into our family somehow. But they only give me more reason… to accept the inevitable. _Of the two heiresses_—that's Nadia and me, we're the only ones left in our family… _one will die…the last will take her place as the **love** and living armory of the rightful owner of her family's gun—_now, since you and me ain't going at it… that leaves my sister and Dean; only we can make more bullets for the Colt, which makes us a living armory of sorts. And since the gun is the only thing that can kill Big Bad… _that_ makes you guys _the lights last hope_. Missouri… didn't you say this one went to college!"

Missouri chuckled and nodded from the stove where she was cooking up spaghetti sauce from scratch. Sam rolled his eyes and glared in reply to the jab at his intelligence. "_This_ is why I've accepted death, Sam; _this_ is why I'm getting pissed about my sister trying to keep me from harms way. The longer she keeps it up… I know what she's up to, she's trying to find a way around all this…" once cold and agitated, her tone had quieted to a soft, almost childlike one, "and I appreciate it, ya know? She's always done what she could to protect me; always felt it was _her_ lot in life to always watch out for me… but this? No, this is one thing she can't fix; and avoiding it is only going to make it worse for her."

"I know how you feel on that one… mostly, anyway. But, how is she the 'holy one'?" he asked, his hands crept towards the edges of the journal's pages; more than likely in attempt to read some of the other things Jim had written about the girls. Before he even knew what he was doing, Emily—with her eyes still locked with Sam's—slapped her hand over the book and dragged it away from him.

"What else could an ancient Aztec call a gifted girl who's a demon huntress, a lost daughter of the Aztec's, _and_ the heiress to a weapon that can destroy _any_ evil? I certainly can't think of a better way to describe her, can you?" he shook his head. "Didn't think so… are we done with the whole stop-accepting-your-eventual-demise talk, too?"

Sighing as he ran a hand through his shaggy hair, Sam shook his head once more, "Yea, I guess; I mean, it's sad, even for our line of work… but it happens to all of us at some point."

Emily laughed quietly, under her breath, and then found it time for a change of subject, "Hey Missouri… need any help with dinner?"

---

After a quiet and semi-uneventful dinner, both girls helped Missouri clean up in the kitchen while Sam and Dean unpacked their things and readied themselves for well deserved sleep; it had been a long and… interesting day for everybody. While Nadia and Emily finished up on helping with Missouri, something they had insisted on doing, the brothers sat in Sam's room, which was the room next to Emily's, discussing the shocking news they'd both individually received from Nadia concerning the Colt. An hour later, both girls popped in to Sam's room to say their goodnights and make sure they were all set in and such.

But when they found the boys, all their things were still set just inside the door and they both seemed a little concerned. "What's up guys… you look a little _perturbed_." Both had a mischievous grin on their faces in reaction to the brothers' obvious discomfort.

"There's only one bed… and I ain't sleeping with his _gangly_ ass!" Dean exclaimed in a tone which was a bit more high pitched than usual, something which made both the girls giggle.

"Well… of course there's only one bed in here, this is Sam's room; the second guest room is in the attic…" the elder sister explained, as Emily exploded in laughter while she watched her sister calmly explain sleeping situations.

"Unless Dean, of course, you don't mind the couch in the parlor… near Missouri's wooden spoon?" She couldn't help the impending return of her afflicting giggles as Sam caught the meaning behind the question and began laughing uncontrollably himself.

Dean's face flushed to a deep red in reaction when his brother found the moment to be perfect for chiming in, "She finally got you with that, huh? What'd you do this time to deserve '_the spoon_'?"

"None. Of. Your. Goddamn. Business. Sammy!" he seethed before returning his glare to the two young women at the door, almost surprised to see that only the younger one was laughing heatedly; Nadia seemed almost as embarrassed as he was. "Lead the way to the attic." Offering a sheepish grin, Nadia bounced her head and took one step outside of the room… but not before grabbing her sister's arm and all but throwing her out of the room.

"G'night, Emmy." She spat vehemently, before returning to her flushed and embarrassed demeanor when Dean stepped out of his brother's room. "Sorry 'bout that… younger siblings, what a pain, huh?" the huntress fell silent once more when she received a brief apologetic smirk from the brother, and offered a quick 'watch your head' as she tugged at the dirtied white cord hanging from the ceiling as a ladder all but collapsed down to their feet. After showing him the roomy attic, she disappeared to her own quarters; leaving Dean to his own thoughts and nighttime preparations.

---

A couple of hours had passed and Dean lay awake in his bed pondering the days events and what trials and tribulations tomorrow could possibly bring when he heard—or thought he heard—the floor squeak gently on the opposite side of the room from the door; his body tensed a bit as he grasped the knife hidden beneath his pillow… nothing. But before he went back to trying fruitlessly to sleep, something clasped onto both of his wrists, cutting off any possibility of defending himself. Panic began to set in as he felt the mattress sink beside him from the added weight of something unseen; all left him when he felt the distinct pressure of a feminine leg run lightly over the blanket and boxer covered half of his body. Someone was sitting on him, someone had snuck into his room without him ever noticing… what bothered him, was how? "What the—"

"Calm down… it's just me." Nadia, the one person he was hoping it wouldn't be; she'd left him hanging on a proverbial whim earlier when Missouri and Emily had returned from the store… he'd been able to control himself and his desires then, he wasn't too sure he could do it again.

"How'd you get up here?"

"Secret entrance in my room."

"Really?"

"Yea…" at this point she'd let go of his hands and dismounted him, save for one leg which she kept curled over his; the rest of her had snuggled closely to his right side, right arm draped over his chest. "There's a door behind my closet."

"Oh… can I ask—" it took a lot for him not to squirm from how her hair tickled his chest.

"Why I'm up here…? No… I couldn't sleep, and couldn't help but notice that you were having the same problem." Fear, there was an obvious amount of fear in her voice; even an amateur hunter could have picked up on it.

"What's the matter?" _Nothing…_ "Nadia…" _Ok, I'm scared…I hate waiting. _"Waiting for what?"

"You know…"

"It's a hard thing to wait around for, huh?" _Yea, it's driving me nuts: the waiting, the wondering… how's it going to happen, where, at whose hands…at whose slip-up?_ He was about to say something when he heard the low sniffle, the feel of hot tears at the nape of his neck.

"I'm afraid it'll be my slip-up that gets her killed… that I'll get distracted and it'll be that little thing the…" he can tell she detests thinking about, even more then she does in talking about it.

"Nadia, it won't be your fault… and as far as we're concerned, it _won't_ happen. Sam and I are going to do everything…"

"But what if everything you can do isn't enough? What if you _can't_ do anything to help us? I can feel it in my bones… something's going to go south… and I'm going to lose the one thing I was able to save from the fires of our parents' death…"_…and I'll be damned to wonder alone for the rest of my life, trying to hunt down and destroy the thing that brought my loved ones to ruin…_

"Don't talk, or think like that… _ever_ again, Nadia." He said as he turned himself over to where he was now laying on top of her, more or less forcing her to look him straight in the eye. It was difficult for both of them to keep the contact from breaking: Dean knew that in order to get through to her, he had to keep contact with the scared and hopeless dark orbs, which were already tearing up with streams of guilt running away from the pained eyes; while Nadia couldn't look away from the determined, sharp hazel eyes tearing their way into her heart and soul in search for the tiniest shred of hope within her. "Even if anything happens to your sister… you think Sammy and me are going to let you waste away alone and meander the back roads of this country knee deep in guilt? No way; we've known you one friggin' day, and you've already become…"

Before he could even form his next words, she'd looped her arms around his neck and pulled him down into a tight hug; one which he knew was all she had to show her thanks, the sob that followed the initial presentation of the embrace solidified that fact to Dean. Rolling back to where he'd been a moment ago, he returned the embrace, letting her know that she'd never be alone again… no matter what it took. Smoothing the blood red hair away from her face he realized, in his solace, she'd fallen into a light and—for once—relaxed slumber.

They laid in each others arms like that for the rest of the night, peacefully anticipating what the next day would bring.

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**A/N: The way I've been seeing it in my mind, at the top of the stairs first thing you see is the door to Nadia's room, then Emily's, then the first guest room—which turns out to be Sam's—and at the end of the hall, there's a linen closet followed by the last room; Missouri's…BUT, the sizing of the first two rooms is drastically different than the spacing between the two from the aspect of viewing the hallway. As you guys can guess, it's because of the secret stairway Nadia has that connects her room to the attic, which is the local of guest bedrooms number 2… a room where our other favorite Winchester will be residing. Hmm… a lot of opportunity for sneaking about, yes? Just a little side note for ya; warning, though, next chapter is _pretty_ crazy... just be ready to go "WHAT THE HELL!" Hehe, enjoy and review as you see fit. Later!  
**


	13. An Intruder from the Beyond

**w00t**, **ok, chapter 13... Ok, on with the craziness, darling readers. Grazi to those who inspired bits and such for this chapter.**  
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The next day, a Saturday, life seemed to go in slow motion for those dwelling in the fortune tellers' house. It was a quiet day, uneventful, void of drama, peaceful even; they spent most of it in small talk, card games, a couple of lessons between Sam and Nadia… there had even been a food fight in the kitchen and for a good hour or so, the four hunters were just a bunch of goofy kids in their twenties. Not worrying or caring about their evil-destroying duties, just living their lives as people, as four friends having a good time; two sets of siblings being just that… and normal; that is, until the dark stretched mercilessly over everything outside of the structure. Then that false world of simplicity came tumbling down around them, and not one of them could predict what was about to strike, not one of them was prepared for the hysteria.

Sam and Emily were giggling stupidly as they cleaned up the last traces of their food fight; Missouri had come in and scolded them, but toddled off shaking her head when she saw the four genuinely happy people covered in random condiments and other various foods. With all that lay before them, she could let this one messy fight slip.

Outside, Nadia sat smoking while was Dean trying to remove an unwilling bit of mustard from his ear, all the while laughing about the hilarity that had ensued during their provisions battle. As she finished and flicked her spent cigarette butt, she took out another from the box, bit down on the filter and yanked the cigarette away from her head, leaving behind only the filter between her teeth. "Stop… you're only going to push that crap further into your head." She giggled as she watched the, uh; interesting methods Dean was attempting to remove the mustard with, "Here… Q-tip MacGyver-style."

_Sit still… you're worse than a fidgety five year old! _She thought, and with a fake look of indignation, he stilled… of course, not without giving her his best annoyed-five-year-old pout. Giggling she cleaned out the last of the French's Honey Dijon from the side of his head; in her amusement, she neglected to pick up on the sudden shift in the man's emotion's. Otherwise she would have taken caution at how he went from being goofy and purposely impossible to somewhat aroused at the feel of her breath tickling at his neck. Of course, in her distraction from her empathic intuition, she also neglected to notice his arm shoot out and wrap itself around her waist, swinging her around until she sat on his lap with her upper body leaning back in a position which she found to be a bit awkward and uncomfortable…

Until he claimed her lips in one damned breathtaking kiss; instantly, she felt herself melt in his arms, a curious plethora of butterflies fluttered about in her stomach and her vision went a bit hazy around the edges. _What is this… this feeling? What's happening? _Her mind exploded into a big mushy pile of fleeting and converging thoughts, all speeding frantically in every which way, befuddling her to no end.

"What do you mean, 'what's this feeling'?" he asked when he finally pulled away.

"I—I don't know… I mean, I know lust; I know desire… I can pretty much tell you where this is going… but it's not a result of either of those two feelings… it's something _entirely_ different…" her confusion grew at a worrisome pace as she took notice of how much she was stuttering; she _never_ stuttered this badly.

Claiming her mouth a second time in a kiss twice as passionate as the previous one, he drove her to the brink of her sanity with a guttural moan before whispering as he took a breath, "Must be love then, huh?"

Instantaneously, her entire body stiffened, _so _this_ is what love is like? Hmm…_

"What, you've never been in love before?"

"Never cared to go looking for it, and it certainly never cared to go looking for me…" She gasped, lightly pushing him away from her. Flashing his most winning smirk he smoothed back a Prego-caked chunk of hair.

"Well, you can't run from it forever." Murmured the Winchester as his right hand meandered blindly down her face, gliding over her neck, skimmed roughly over her chest and wrapping it once more around her waist to wrench her from lying down on the swinging bench to a more comfortable position of straddling his hips.

Hearing the blood pumping in her ears, she gave in to the fiery sensation burning through her veins, exciting every inch of her. They had both let go and were about to give into the heat of the moment when a foreign sound from the side of the house caught their attention, and as she turned her head in the direction of the noise, her eyes landed on the old willow tree she remembered sitting under years ago. _You can't do this Nadia, don't hurt him like this…you _know_ what the consequences are more than likely to be._ Looking back at Dean, she almost jumped as realization struck her… the man from her first vision was… Dean. _No, no… Oh god…get yourself _out of there_, Nadia! Get away from the situation!_

"You hear that, too?" he inquired cautiously; nodding, she slid herself off his lap, inching towards the kitchen door.

"Dean, it's getting dark… we should probably go inside," she beckoned him towards the house as he began to stalk towards the willow tree. "Dean… please?" she hated begging, but for some reason the moment did more than just call for it… it demanded it. "C'mon, it was probably a bird or something. Let's just go."

As he faced her once more, he saw the raw fear that she'd displayed once or twice the day before. She'd reacted that way with good reason, unlike most chicks… not over something silly. His mind wandered back to her nervous breakdown when Emily and Missouri were MIA and possibly hurt… he'd been freaked out by the hyperventilation, _knowing_ he would more or less act the same way if—no, he didn't want to consider the things that could happen to his brother, Dean reminded himself that he would never allow anything to happen to his geeky side-kick so long as he was around. "Ok," he said quietly, joining her at the door, "let's go inside."

---

"… It nearly killed me to keep quiet and not just bust out laughing… but the look on his face when he tried to put down the beer bottle? Priceless," Sam recanted to Emily, who at this point was laughing so hard that tears were streaming down her face; she could barely catch her breath, too. "He literally had to peel a layer of skin off his palm; which, as I told him… I wouldn't touch that line with a ten foot pole."

"Haha, yea, that just sounds so _wrong_! Ah man, I—" the sound of the doorbell in the next room interrupted them, she threw Sam a confused look before shrugging and walking towards the front door; reaching it just as the doorbell rang again, her hand rested on the top lock before calling out, "Who is it?"

"Nadia, is that you! Open up, it's Cristin… Cristin Camden. I heard you were in town and had to see it for myself!" replied the person on the other side of the door, Emily's eyes widened after a moment of thought and threw the door open.

"Hey Cristin!" She exclaimed happily as the young woman squealed and threw her arms around the younger huntress.

"Emily, oh my god… I haven't seen you in _years_!" She cried, not really taking notice of the younger girl's shock from Cristin's embrace, "How the hell have you been?"

"Good, good… Cris, you haven't changed a bit." Emily said, pulling herself away from her sister's old friend.

"In the past, what, nine years since the last time you saw me… really? You don't think so?" she asked, face scrunched and shaking her head as Emily did so. "You're sweet, but a liar… where's your sister?"

Biting her lip, Emily rolled her head in direction of the back door, keeping a sly and devilish glint in her eye, "In the back with her boyfriend… it's too bad you didn't drop by earlier, you missed a hell of a food fight!"

Cristin laughed lightly, but made no sign of remorse for missing cold spaghetti being thrown at her head. Instead, she walked inside after Emily motioned for the girl to enter, tossed her bag on the couch closest to the kitchen and walked straight back to the kitchen, "At least I'll be here for the banter fight… Nadia's the best at those, and you know I _love_ a good—_hi_… who are you?"

Emily ran in to the kitchen finding Cristin and Sam staring each other down in some kind of who-can-look-more-confused contest. Laughing, she stood next to her fellow hunter, clapping him softly on the back before dealing out introductions.

"This is Sammy… Sam Thompson," she explained when she realized that Sam wasn't going to speak for himself… he just kept looking at her with confusion, "his big brother is Nadia's new man. They're actually _old_ family friends… we just haven't seen them in years… or, I haven't anyway." _Sammy, you know you can say something…she doesn't bite, though she does look like she will… I'll say that much…_

_There's something about her that creeps me out, Em… I don't know what it is, but I don't trust her_. He thought with a shy smile, beside him Emily did her best to mask the shock at Sam hearing her thoughts and able to reply to them, also in thought form.

"Thompson, huh… like the gun?" Cristin asked, it was quite clear to both of them that she was flirting with Sam, "Nadia's never said anything about you guys, though I can see why… greedy little Nadia, keeping all the hot guys to herself."

_Okay, yea, I _really_ don't like her_. His thought screamed through Emily's head as he nodded, both hunters grinned politely. The huntress tried to feel bad for Sam, but found too much humor in his discomfort.

_Baby,_ "Gone mute all of a sudden, Sammy?" she chuckled, going back to her tea and uncle's journal at the kitchen table, ignoring the mental comeback he made as she retreated. Luckily for the younger Winchester, at that moment the back door began to open, both older siblings walked in; covered in now dry condiments. Quietly sighing to his relief, Sam watched the strange woman run over to Nadia and tackle her.

"Nadia, Nadia, Nadia! Shit girly, it's been too damn long!"

The older Coltier had no time to even react and brace herself, as the stranger knocked her to the ground she released a surprised yelp. _Ahh, what the fuck and who the hell?_

"What the fuck's going on here… Cristin?" Nadia cried in disbelief as she finally got a good look at the crazy, tackling stranger who was pretty much sitting on her. With a shit-eaten grin the girl nodded enthusiastically, and as recognition took hold, the huntress returned the hug with just as much fervor. "What, what are _you_ doing here?"

"Coming back to visit silly, and who knew your crazy ass would be in town at the exact same time!" both girls laughed as they helped each other up from the floor.

"Oh shit, guys…this klutzy whore is my best friend from high school, Cristin Camden." She announced, motioning to Cristin while flicking her off at the same time. "I'm sure you remember Emmy, that's Sam…"

"Bitch please; Emily already introduced me to señor Hotness over there, _however_… I've yet to be introduced to this stud muffin next to _you_…" Nadia silently apologized to Sam upon seeing him blush, feeling even _more_ uncomfortable. Glancing up at Dean when Cristin pointed at him seductively, she saw the amused little grin flash at everyone in the room, "who's the hunk, darlin'?"

"Unless you want a crash course in contortionism, Cris… I suggest you keep your sights off of him." Her growled threat caused both Winchester's to look at her in surprise, Emily simply scoffed, and Cristin relayed an expression of mock-hurt. "This is Dean…"

"Dean Thompson, just like I told Emmy and your little brother… your girlfriend is still the same selfish bitch she was in high school, keeping all the hotties for herself." The thin blond girl pouted; Dean couldn't help but feel awkward of her, there was something about her that just seemed evil. She was thin, pale with chin length stringy blonde hair, her chin looked pointy, as did her turned up nose; lightly dusted with freckles, even as Nadia threatened her, her green eyes (outlined in smoky black eyeliner) never left Dean.

"Hey... hooker," Nadia called lovingly, effectively distracting her old friend from ogling at Dean, "pay attention, I'm not repeating this again… keep your horny-ass gaze _off_ the boyfriend!" as she said it, her eyes flickered over to her sister and Sam. _Which one of you told her Dean and I were an item?_

_It was her, it was _all_ her!_ Sam thought as he threw a thumb in Emily's direction, who was quick to glare indignantly at him. _But seriously…isn't that the case?_

_Snitch!_

_Sam…I'll kill you later. Emmy, you're ass is grass…GRASS!_

"Hey Nadia… you still cold-banging the school mascot... you remember… the donkey?" Cristin spat venomously.

Nadia threw back her head as she laughed sarcastically at the blow, "Speaking of Bestiality… How's your dad?" She smiled triumphantly as the room went silent as soon as she heard the glorious sound of deeply shocked gasps from all three hunters in the room.

"_Damnit_! You win _again_, Nadia… fuck you for knowing I can't top something like that!" her friend shouted in frustration, shaking her head both girls resumed laughing and embraced once more, "Ohhh, it's good to see you again, DiDi… you said you were going to keep in touch over the years and I've yet to get so much as a phone call!"

"Oh… that, um… my work… it-it keeps me _pretty_ busy." She concluded the lie with a nervous chuckle.

"What to do you again?"

"I…I'm a gopher… at this detective agency in… pft, Florida…" She fibbed; nervous laughter flowed evenly throughout the entire line.

"Liar…" Cristin said with eyes narrowed, glaring at Nadia like she was scanning her soul, Nadia merely backed herself up with a mock-startled look. "You're an actual detective, aren't you… public or undercover?"

Opening her mouth to let out another lie, Emily grinned mischievously before she started to sing, "Secret aaaagent skank! Secret aaaagent ska-a-nk!"

Everyone else giggled mirthfully at Emily's remark while Nadia glowered mercilessly at her sister, _If I could kick your ass just by looking at you… I would do it._

"…Lupae…" she retorted.

"Haha, still finding ways to practice your Greek, I see… sweetie, it'd been 8 years since high school, no one remembers the foreign language lessons they didn't want to take in high school after _two_ years, how the hell do you manage to remember it after _eight_!"

Nadia simply shrugged as she walked between Cristin and Dean in her quest for the fridge and a can of Dr. Pepper, "I don't know… it's _me_… Still working for your dad, Cristin?"

"Yea, you know me… shackled to the family business til the day I die, just like you." Nadia was suddenly glad her back was turned to Cristin; otherwise she would have seen the pained grimace that passed quickly over her face. "Being a secretary at a law firm is like being Hell's Hostess… we're just missing all the flames and pitchforks."

When she noted that no-one found her comment even slightly entertaining, Cristin saw that making an exit would be a good plan right about now, "Anyway… I just came by to see if the rumors were true about you being back in town." Pausing she looked at Nadia, as if she were etching the way she was at that very moment permanently into her memory for purposes unknown, "We should go have a drink sometime while we're both in town… you free tonight?"

"Sorry, Cris-Cris, I may be on vacation… but I've yet to go on one without having a metric fuckton of research to do for my next job. Maybe some other time?" she apologized flatly, trying her best to seem sincere.

"Ok… well, you have my number in case you change your mind." drawing the girl into a tight hug one last time they said their goodbyes, "Don't let it be another eight years before we see each other again."

"I promise, take care of yourself."

"I will, bye little Emmy… you've gotten too big, go back to being the little squirt you were!" she said whilst hugging Emily, who looked a little peeved at being called 'squirt'.

"Yea, later…"

"… and you hot guys… take good care of my friends?" she demanded, walking backwards to find her purse and the front door; Sam just nodded and turned back to everyone else in the room looking a little shell-shocked.

"Bye…" Dean exclaimed, as soon as he heard the front door close he pivoted to look at the three of them, "What in the _hell_ was _that_!"

"Not my best friend from high school… _that_ girl, died a couple of weeks ago. I went to her funeral…" with arms crossed and eyes burning holes into the kitchen tile, she bobbed her head as her feet kicked at nothing, "Gotta say it, though… she looks _damn_ good for a dead girl."

---

Meanwhile… Outside the house Cristin stood on the curb, staring intently at the building… with black soul-less eyes. The wind picked up around her and a black mist collected and solidified itself into Big Bad, Cristin smiled sweetly at the demonic creature beside her.

"What did you learn, my sweet?" he asked in his usual wicked tone.

"They are guarded by the Winchester brothers…" she reported with little to no emotion.

"Just the brothers, John's not there with them?"

"No, sir."

"Good, very good; I'm sure you want to get revenge on the brother's for exorcizing you during your last little run-in with them… Meg Masters was a perfect host for you, mostly because she was alive… but this Camden girl will have to do for now. I'll leave you to your revenge, good luck, pet." He said as he began to return to a cloud of black smoke.

"Thank you, father, I won't let you down this time…" Cristin smiled evilly with her black eyes, "I'm going to pry the Colt from your cold, dead hands, Sammy… and use its last bullet on your precious brother." Cackling she walked off down the street, soon she'd follow through with her plans… once her father finished with what he had in mind for Daddy Winchester.

---

A few hours later, Nadia stood in the shower as steam bounced off and enveloped her body; the water cascaded down her back as she leaned against the wall, beads of water slid slowly down her face. Snapping her eyes shut she tried desperately to calm herself; twisting the left knob as far as it would go she tried to burn off the honey scent of her deceased friend. In an attempt to stifle a sob, she buried her face in her hands, "Why Cristin… why her? Of all the people who've died in my life, why her?"

Tears intertwined with water as her mind sank back to her first day of high school…

_The school bully had singled her out that day, it had been just her luck… that morning Missouri made her promise not to practice her fighting skills with any of the kids at school, and she couldn't take any of her weapons with her; she was helpless, quietly seething as she retrieved a text book from her locker. Thanks to her quick reflexes, she'd been fast enough to remove her hand from harms way as the bully slammed her locker shut. She refused to look at him, thinking if she didn't see him she wouldn't be tempted to beat the living tar out of him. His posse of friends surrounded as they laughed mindlessly, cutting her off from any possible escape._

_Apparently, the bully didn't like it when his victims ignored him, so he grabbed a fistful of blood red hair and tugged as hard as he could; with a pained yelp, all the books she'd been holding fell to the floor. As she gave the bastard her most threatening glare, she heard the muffled clicking of heavy boots approaching them; from what she could tell from the sounds of the persons slinking, it was a girl. Chancing a look over the pudgy faced bastard who's hands were either yanking at her hair or traveling dumbly towards areas that would qualify him as a dead man, she saw a thin blond girl with black knee high ass-kicking boots, charcoal skirt, and a black blouse. The sinister look in her green eyes made her shiver… was she a friend of theirs? _

_The girl let out a bored sigh as she placed an elbow on bully's shoulder, grinning wickedly at everyone, including Nadia. Her voice emanated pheaux sweetness, "Hey guys… Whatcha dooo-in'?" the way she batted her eyelashes at them made Nadia flinch._

"_Teaching Little Red here, a little lesson…" Soon-to-be-a-dead-man ground out._

"_Oh…I see," her head swiveled as she spoke, reminding Nadia of some bad animatronic you'd see on a thirty year old ride at Disneyland, she sighed again sounding just as bored as she had the last time, "mind if I make a suggestion?"_

_Asshole finally turned and got a good look at the girl, sizing her up in a way that made Nadia want to throw up. "A suggestion…? Go home and bake me some cookies or something… but try not to break a nail. What would you know about teaching bitches like her any kind of lesson?"_

_Both girls raised an eyebrow at the comment, the girl scoffed and grabbed the bully roughly by the shoulder; he had momentarily let go of Nadia's hair, probably just to turn around and slap the girl… but she was faster, before he could do anything, she hissed out a single word, "THIS!"_

_And with 'THIS', she drew back her fist and knuckle punched the kid square in the nose; the boy went down quick and hard as a spray of blood erupted from the contact. The posse had gone silent and with a fleeting glare from the blond, they all ran off in various directions._

_She only took a quick second to bask in her little victory before helping Nadia grab the last of her books from the ground, took her by the hand and ran off in the direction of the closest exit as one word floated past her to the young huntress, "Quick-ly…"_

_A few minutes later they were sitting behind the football stadium bleachers laughing hysterically over how quickly the bully had gone down. "Oh, it was beautiful… the spray of blood was a **perfect** touch; it just made the moment." Nadia giggled, doing her best to sound serious._

"_Eh, the ol' fat fucker had it coming… you don't treat girls like that… especially when they already look like they can kill you without breaking a sweat!" the girl, who's name was Cristin, said in her defense. "Man, I know I've got some blood on my arm, but I can't tell for shit if any got on you… it blends too well with your hair! I dig the color though…how often do you have to dye it?"_

"_I… don't, it's my natural color…" Cristin had gasped in amazement._

"_No way! That's so cool, it adds to your, I'm-not-afraid-to-kill-yo-ass appearance. Haha, well, I can honestly tell ya… I knew I was going to get into a fight with somebody on my first day at this hell hole, but I had no idea I'd end up skipping half the day laughing my ass off behind the bleachers." They laughed once more; Nadia's a bit more distant and less cheerful as her new friend's._

"_I would say Missouri's going to kill me for skipping… but at least I kept my promise and didn't beat the crap out of anybody for looking at me wrong…" she mused, picking at the frayed hem of her jeans._

"_Girly-girl, that's what I'm here for now… anybody messes with you… they'll get the steel-toe of my boots where it counts…" she declared matter-of-factly, pausing in realization, she turned to Nadia with a more serious face, "Missouri… Missouri Moseley, the town psychic?"_

_Nadia bobbed her head slowly, lost in her thoughts with a faint smile tugging at her lips._

"…_Cool." They were 14 and rebellious as all get out, and from that day on until graduation…inseparable._

As the memory faded away from Nadia's mind's eye, she realized she'd been in the shower for a very long time… but damnit all to fucking hell if she couldn't get the smell of honey off her skin! Groaning in frustration, she was about to scratch fervently at her skin when a sharp pain began slashing at her mind; the pain was so great that any hope of fighting it was useless, all she could do was scream again and again, sobbing between the screams. She was terrified of what she might see when the images began to form in her head. All her years of training, all her experiences of going head to head with evil… none of it could possibly have prepared her for the things she saw. "_Oh god…NO!_" she managed, it was all she could force out before reaching out for anything to steady her; falling awkwardly, she brought the shower curtain down with her and clung to it for dear life while the continuous pain in her head refused to lessen.

Even as Dean kicked open the door for the three hunters to rush in to the rescue, the feel of a million daggers ripping apart the inside of her head would not relent.

"Nadia… what's wrong, what's happening?" Dean begged in frenzy, the girl just continued wailing miserably and even began to push away from him, turning her head away in shame before croaking out the only thing she had the energy or voice to say.

"He's _dead_… oh _god_, he's _dead_… get away, run _away_ from me before you die too!"

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**A/N: 'What the fuck and who the hell' is my favorite saying, I use it whenever I find the smallest occasion for it; ex: phone calls, he-he**. **Looks like I'm leaving you with a cliff hanger for a couple of days until I whip up a couple of more chapters... sorry. Anyway, review send whatever comments you like; you guys are absolute dolls, so kind to me! Lupae is Greek for Whore/slut/skank/ho... a term of endearment between my little sister and me, ;)  
**

** love. CS  
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	14. Vision's of Fatality

**Yay, I'm back! Sorry it's taken me so long to update, relatives and high school buddies are always distracting. But I return with treats... two new chapters! w00t, w00t! lol**. **Anyway, here's somethin new for the the story; I've decided to continue updating the whole myspace thing, just cuz it might turn out interesting and such... maybe, I dunno. Anyway, enjoy ch. 14!**

---

Last time…

"He's _dead_… oh _god_, he's _dead_… get away, run _away_ from me before you die too!"

---

_What the hell is going on?_ He thought as he witnessed the first person he'd come to care for since Cassie was fighting him, fighting to get away from him. She looked so tortured, weakly sitting there pushing away from him while the scorching water rained down on the both of them. A few minutes after Dean and their siblings had barged into the bathroom, she was reduced to simply begging with her head turned. Sam and Emily had already left in pursuit of Missouri, thinking she'd know exactly how to deal with the situation. "Please…. Please, Dean…"

"Why… what's the matter, Dia? I'm not going anywhere, I'm not leaving you a—" then he noticed it, it had taken him a while since her hair was the same color… but there was blood snaking slowly in tiny streams between the fingers Dean had lightly placed on her back. "What the…"

"Dean, I think it would be best if you and your brother went downstairs… Emily and I will take care of this," Missouri's calm voice lulled, effectively pulling him from the terrified trance the blood had pulled him into, "…Dean, did you hear me, sweetheart?"

Nodding distantly, he allowed Emily to pull him up and guide him out the bathroom door before closing it behind them. "Dean… hey, are you ok?" his brother's voice sounded just as scared as he felt, "What the hell happened in there?"

"I dunno… but Missouri wants us to go downstairs while they take care of… whatever happened in there." Nodding Sam followed his brother cautiously down to the kitchen.

---

"Nadia… Nadia, baby, I need you to look at me… what happened, what did you see?" Missouri inquired soothingly to the drenched and troubled girl. But she remained quiet, leaning heavily on her sister as she sat next to Nadia; hiccupping the last of her tears away.

"DiDi, you have to tell us what happened; otherwise we can't help anyone… if they can still be helped." The younger sister's worry began to grow rapidly for every second that Nadia lay slumped against her, "Your back is bleeding again, DiDi. Ya know… it hasn't bled like this since your first vision," she paused long enough to puff out the deep inhalation of air… or steam, rather, that she'd just filled her lungs with, "did you have your first vision again?"

Again silence, they sat waiting patiently for an answer, all she obliged them with was a shake of her head.

"She's blocking her thoughts… I can't read her."

"She doesn't want us to… I'll clean her up; we'll see if she feels like talking after that." The old reader nodded in understanding as she stood to leave the bathroom and join the brother's downstairs. As the door closed, Emily hugged her sister and pushed a few damp chunks of hair from her face. "Hey, I'm going to get up and get a towel… so we can clean up your back, it's just you and me… you can talk whenever you feel like it. Okay?"

Nadia sniffled.

"Okay, just sit still and don't lean back on the wall… I'll be right back." Em was amazed that her sister was listening to everything she'd asked her to do; usually she was impossible about things and went against everybody's wishes. _What happened to you, Dia?_ "Whatever you saw… it's really got you scared, huh? You're even pushing the one guy you love away… you know he won't go, right? He'll get a little scared… but only for you, he'll get extremely defensive… for both you and Sammy… and their dad; but that's it, he turns an anti-social shoulder to the rest of the world. I don't know about you… but to me, that sounds just like my big sister…"

"No…" Emily immediately stilled from her gentle movements of wiping the blood from Nadia's shoulders, having grimaced at seeing the scratches that _damned_ hobgoblin left her with all those years ago.

"No what, Na…" before she could finish, Nadia wrapped her pruned fingers around Emily's tattooed wrist; the girl flinched as warped images filled her mind, and a grim understanding set in. "Oh Nadia," she lamented softly, "you can't blame yourself for that, it wasn't your fault… you weren't that shadow-y thing that did it, are you?"

"…no…"

"No, that's right; you weren't… so it's not your fault, and you've no reason to push those boys away… his death _wasn't_ your fault, you had nothing to do with it; besides, we've got time to save him, right?"

"No… I saw it _as_ it happened, like the thing that did it was making me watch." Her words were low and barely above a whisper, but they rang clearly in her sister's ears. "And now, I have to tell them… they're going to hate me for what I have to tell them."

"No they won't, DiDi," Emily stated confidently, "I will… you showed me the vision, and for once, it'll be me who announces the bad news because I've seen it, too. And I can make it subtle, so they never once think it was what you saw. I had to do this sort of thing all the time as a medic, it's hard, but with practice it's as much of an art as some of the things we've done."

"Like lock-picking?" Nadia mused with a grin.

"Lock-picking, lying, and subterfuge, oh my!" She cried animatedly, Nadia looked at her with amusement and the younger knew she'd be alright. "Ok… done with your trance-like self hatred?"

"What-ever, you'd like to think I hated myself for a split second!" Her sister snorted indignantly.

_Yep, big sister is back on track._

"Never left, coño." (A/N: Cono is spanish for cunt, little interesting fact for ya)

_No, sis, you never did._ "GET yo naked ass _dressed_!" she cried before adding in a normal tone, "I'll go be the doomed messenger."

"K, but I'm going straight to bed, I'm not going back down there."

"The hell you're not," she said as she looked at he sister quizzically, "…Nadia, you need to stop running away from the things that hurt. Don't run from Dean because he's the best thing to ever happen to you, don't run from our destiny, and DON'T run from living a little. You need to go out and get your drink on, get dressed, I'll tell Dean you need a strong drink and a pool table… we'll drop the bad news on them tomorrow, okay?"

Nadia sat there for a moment, strongly considering the offer; shrugging stiffly she hefted herself up from the floor of the tub. "Fine… bitch." Nadia Coltier was never one to turn down a drink.

---

Emily flew down the stairs thunderously and as the noise filtered into the kitchen all three within jumped to their feet expecting the worst. "Hey Dean!" She cried as she halted just past the kitchen threshold.

"Yea… what's the matter?" the words spewed out of his mouth before he even knew for sure that she was talking to him.

"Listen, she still won't say what she saw… but she is sorry for pushing you away; and if there's anything I _know_ about my sister, a couple of drinks will cool her off and possibly even get her to open up about her vision." She offered, hoping he would take the hint… hell, they could all use a good beer or two; too bad the only alcohol Missouri willingly kept in the house was either ceremonial or reserved for her occasional potions and such.

Luckily, he did, "Ok… is Pool Room still open on Iowa St?"

"Uh… Pool Room? I was thinking Johnny's Tavern… that place always calmed her down; our parents met there during a hunt." Emily's eyes glazed over slightly when she began talking about her parents. "And besides… it's just over the bridge."

"K… if it'll calm her down… God, what the… what did she tell you while you guys were in there…anything?" Dean rambled, risking his brother later nagging at him for getting so worked up over something; though he didn't notice that his brother was silently witnessing a vision of his own while Dean and Emily were deep in their discussion.

**He was at the end of a long dark hallway, lit by a brilliant white light at the other end. At first glance, he was afraid he'd died and the sayings were true about 'the white light' you have to move towards when you die. But the chiming of infant's mobile drew him onwards; after closely inspecting the hallway, he surmised that it only went on for about 70 feet… what kind of tunnel to the after life was only 70 ft? You'd think it would stretch on long enough to make you think thoroughly about the events that have shaped your life. Then he heard it…**

**The voice; it was lulling, peaceful… happy and giggling as it sang about being spoiled by 'poppa'.**

**The closer he got to the room the more he recognized the voice; he hadn't heard her sing in the past two days that he knew her… but somehow, Sam knew it was Nadia. Laughing and singing to someone.**

**Twenty feet away, he was beginning to see the movement of a long white nightgown, holding a small bundle in her arms, blood red hair floating about her head as she spun.**

**Two feet from the doorway, she stopped spinning and had begun to rock and smile sweetly at the bundle in her arms. When he came to a stop and leaned on the doorjamb, she looked up and her smile increased ten-fold; she seemed to glow, and not just from the blinding white light that bathed the room. "Hi Sammy," she spoke, her voice sounded a little strange, like it was split into two speeds: super-slow and super-fast, "I don't believe you've met your nephew. He's got his daddy's eyes…"**

**Her own were shinning, tearing up, dripping with pride that this beautiful little person in her arms was a piece of her; Sammy felt himself getting a little choked up as he took quiet steps towards Nadia and the child as she gently rocked him with a mother's grace, "My nephew…I'm an uncle?"**

**She nodded her head; she was so full of life and cheeriness as she handed the fragile child to him, "Yes… his twin sister is over there in the other crib, she's sleeping right now."**

"**A niece?" he felt his voice quiver, he didn't really know how to handle the good news other than coming pretty close to crying, "How old are they?"**

"**They're both six months old today." Her smile never wavered as she announced their age… but his did, he remembered what had happened to his family when he turned six months; any chance for happiness burned away on the ceiling of his nursery.**

"**Six months?" he frowned, she didn't seem to notice his reaction; she just kept up her angelic-motherly glow, face bright with an ear to ear smile.**

**Before he knew it, he was watching—at an over-head view—Nadia and his brother sleeping on a king sized bed with both infants sleeping peacefully between the two; he felt a displacing amount of fear and panic build as he realized what he was about to witness, the life of the infants and his brother were about to take a turn for the worst as the ceiling exploded with Nadia stuck to it. He watched waiting, not being able to do anything else; he waited for hours in horrified suspense… but nothing happened, and the sun slowly filtered into their bedroom as Dean's eyes slowly opened, observing what was still lying next to him. They'd made it through that night, the nightmare was really over.**

**Again, there was a change of setting… the happy parents, who seemed to have aged a few years, sat at a table drinking coffee and reading the newspaper, 'Like normal parents might… I think…' A few minutes later, two healthy looking ten year olds ran in greeting their parents as they sat. The girl handed Nadia small box, neatly wrapped, while the boy handed her an envelope; Dean grinned smugly behind his newspaper as he reached for his coffee. "Happy 39th birthday, Mommy." The girl squealed.**

**Nadia returned the smile as she accepted the parcel, "Thank you baby… and from now on it's 35th… every year 35th until I'm a grandmother... having a 35 year old grandmother raises a few undesirable questions." Dean spat out his coffee laughing. There were tears of joy as she opened the box revealing a rather pricey piece of jewelry inside, Dean must have run a credit card scam and maxed it on the gift alone. Sam couldn't help but silently chide his brother for winding up in the exact apple-pie normal life he'd sworn would never be his. "Where's your cousin?"**

"**Cleaning up… she kinda had an accident while making bullets this morning…" the little girl spouted.**

"**Huh, well, one of you run up and tell her to be quick about it… her breakfast is getting cold." At that, both kids ran off screaming something that more than caught Sam's attention: 'Jessica!'**

"Sammy… how many times do I have to ask that you at least send me a postcard when you off and visit la-la-land?" Dean asked, pseudo-belligerently, "I mean, that hurts man, it really hurts! Seriously, dude… what'd you see?"

"A possible future… not your typical three hours down the road future… I mean a couple of years or so kind of future." He recanted softly.

"Good or bad?" the huntress asked with a double sided curiosity.

"Good… really good." He smirked goofily.

"Good how? Big bad gone and defeated kinda good… us retired kind of good… you runnin' a law firm sort of good… what?" Dean asked.

"Yea… well, I don't know about that last part… it wasn't necessarily about _me_ so much as it was about you," he scratched his head as he mumbled the rest under his breath, "… and Nadia…" slyly, he handed his brother the small leather pouch of bullets that Nadia had directed him to retrieve; _hold on to these… just in case…_

"Great… though I highly doubt I'll ever retire from this life, but all the same, great." Dean said as he grabbed his jacket from the back of a chair, "So, Johnny's Tavern it is… I'm ready whenever she is…" barely having time to finish, Nadia came skidding into the kitchen, bumping into the doorjamb with a soft thud and a hushed 'Oof'; clad in her favorite ripped and frayed jeans, a red tee with a silk-screening of a schoolgirl holding a gun on the front upper right side of the shirt slightly covered by a black leather jacket.

The four in the kitchen stared as she clambered into her black knee high boots, "What…? Just because I'm a psychic doesn't mean I don't have my clumsy moments!" by the look on her face she was more baffled and defending herself than scolding them. "… We going?"

---

The drive to Johnny's was quiet… conversation-wise; without fail, Dean had his 80's metal blaring. It struck him as odd, seeing as she was _so_ much like his brother, he assumed that she, too, would strongly dislike his taste in music. She _had_ been noticeably tense when they first got in the car, but as soon as Dio came screaming from the Impala's stereo… Nadia eased up a considerable amount.

Inside the crowded tavern was no different; as soon as she crossed the threshold and the establishment's familiar smells and tidal wave of smoke crashed over her… she looked like any normal bar-going patron inside the joint. A group of old men and women varying in ages as young as Missouri to people who would better fit in as residents of a nursing home waved her down hollering all sorts of things; and with a jovial, youthful smile Nadia sauntered over to them, hugging and shaking hands with all of them. 'I feel like the sore thumb,' his mind grumbled as he slowly and awkwardly shadowed his drinking companion.

"Aw shit, how rude of me… guys, this is my… boyfriend, Dean; Dean… this is Joe-Joe, ol' Lady Langley, Tessa, and her husband Marcus, Stella-Lee, brotha Drake, Mean Maureen, Lars the Lawless, Chubs and Nino. They're old friends of the family…" Nadia announced, amazingly without having to take a breath amongst all the names.

"_Very_ old friends of the family… some of us have had the privilege of hunting with her granddaddy, Noland Coltier; fine man, good hunter… did a damn fine job teaching that boy of his the basics of hunting." Said the man, Chubs, whom Dean had nicknamed 'Father-Time,' "It really was no surprise to any of us the first time Nadia and her sister came in, saying they were Nicky's girls. Why if I was still young enough to hunt… I'd be lucky to have the sister's watchin' my back!"

"Dia darlin', you've snagged a _handsome_ one; my question is… how'd he tame you enough to the point of admitting to a relationship?" Ol' Lady Langley drawled out.

"What's your family name, boy?" Joe-Joe demanded.

"Winchester, sir." A collective gasp silenced the group, followed by a hushed murmur of: 'Well that answers my question…' from Langley.

"Winchester, huh?" Mean Maureen growled testily, "You _John_ Winchester's boy?" For a wrinkly 50-something, Maureen effectively scared the crap out of Dean.

"One of them, ma'am." Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Nadia smirk and wink at him.

Instead of drilling him for more information, she let out a chuckle that startled Dean more than her glare had. "I remember when the fire happened… that musta been you runnin' out the house with that poor baby. You could see the hunter potential in him at four years old… Little Missy, you've got my vote of approval." Nadia was ready to let some snarky comment loose on the elderly hunters when Lars put away the phone she hadn't noticed him using… he looked worried.

"Phillip just called, 'nother fire broke out in Jefferson City tonight," both hunters paled, "… stupid people tossing out false explanations to make everyone feel safe… bad wiring in the walls my _ass_! We all know what started the fire in that hospital." Lars announced, glowering through his one good eye.

"A hospital in Jefferson City, you say?" Dean asked carefully.

"Yep, DiDi-doll, didn't you say little Emmy ran off to be a medic there?" Tessa inquired sweetly; aside from Nadia, she was the only hunter that didn't have an extremely threatening demeanor.

"Volunteering EMT, yea… but I dragged her away from that weeks ago." _Damnit, damnit, damnit… these guys are going to blow everything!_

"Which hospital caught fire?" Nadia let out a small sigh of relief; he wasn't catching on to her.

"St. Mary's… why, you know someone there?" Once Lars got out the hospital name, Dean had his phone out dialing St. Mary's number. He got half-way through the number when his phone started ringing.

"Hello?"

'Hey Dean, its Emily… How's she doing?'

"Fine… hear anything about a fire at St. Mary's hospital in Jefferson City?"

'Just that it was in the ICU… why?' he sighed in relief, _Dad's okay, then_.

"Nothin' just wondering… we ran into some _old_ friends of yours…"

There was static veiling what he heard next, 'Oh neat, tell the gang I said Hi!'

"Alright, talk to you later… bye." Clicking his cell shut, he returned his focus to the crowd that was now watching him, "Emily says hey."

As if on cue, the entire group exploded in different forms of happiness. "You kids go get a drink… whatever you want, it's on the house… you damn well look like you need it." Brotha Drake cried, giving Dean the impression that he owned the lively tavern. Nadia pointed over to a secluded booth in the back corner as she headed behind the bar. She graced him with a secret smile when, as he sat, he turned his attention back to the old, glossy wooden bar; she plucked up two beer glasses with a hidden bartender's grace, smiling and laughing and adding to jokes and jabs from the senior hunters a few feet from her as she expertly poured Dean a beer and shook up her usual drink: a double vodka/cranberry.

She laughed lightly as he gave her a questioning glance at the glasses she placed between them, "Ok… this one I KNOW is beer… but what the hell is _that_?"

Sighing indignantly, she shook her head and took a gulp of the clear red liquid. "Vodka Cranberry… double… works quicker than a friggin' _beer_."

_Oh now she's just taunting me…_ "Really now? Let's make a bet, I'll chug one of these… things, you chug a beer… whoever is less sober in the end has the pussy drink, you in?"

Tilting her head as she narrowed her eyes, the beer glass filled to the brim with the red drink sloshed forward to Dean, "Mmm, why… are you in the mood to lose and get drunk?" Without another word, she snatched his drink raised it a bit before throwing the beer back just as he began inhaling her beverage of choice. In the end, Nadia sat grinning evilly at a slightly disoriented Dean.

"Okay, you win… once you stop _spinning_!" he would have gone further, but his cell began to ring where it rested on the table. "Oop… gotta get that… Hello?" he said, beginning the static laden conversation.

'Dean… are you drunk?'

"Saaaaaaaaaaaammyyy! Hey baby brother, what's up?"

'Yea….re drunk… Dia?'

"What… sorry Ssssam didn't quite catch that?" He slurred, _dude, the reception in this place sucks out loud!_

"…Dean, this place arguably has the best reception in town… why would you say that?"

"There'sssssssss a lot of static…" He mumbled, stumbling over the words as she yanked the cell phone from his hand, "… hey!"

"Sam… Sammy, what's going on? Where are you, the reception isn't this bad at the house…" Panic swiftly pumped its way into her veins as an unshakable feeling of danger filtered its way into her senses, the overwhelming static spilling into her ears from Sam's phone wasn't helping her in the slightest. And the twisted, inhuman cackle (that was **so** _not_ Sammy) bore her deepest, darkest fears into reality.

'Emmy… I believe your sister is trying to say hello to you…' it was hushed and spoken at least five feet from the phone, but her strained ears didn't miss it; the blood drained quickly and painfully from her face as she thought back on a discussion she'd had with her sister at some point since she met the Winchesters.

**Flashback**

'_It's big enough that they're going after hunters… going after people in hunting circles… Caleb's dead… Jim's dead… Elkins is dead…whoever is doing it tried to off these guys; we've got to be _extra_ careful Emmy…' She preached sternly._

'…_but…' Emily had attempted._

'_NO but's, Emmy, we're not safe anymore… not anywhere. They're going to try to separate us, weaken us, and possibly even take us out one at a time. I know while you were living a normal life… you still kept a sharp eye on the shadows… but now you've got to go back to keeping a weather eye open… _just_ like Jim taught us, the time to make the old Pastor proud is now… got it?'_

**Flashback over**

"Emmy…" she breathed fearfully, having now caught Dean's full attention, her look of utter fear throwing him violently back to sobriety. But firm hands clamping on her shoulders and a head of blond hair stopping inches from her face detained Nadia from leaping up and sprinting home if need be.

"Unless you want all three of them to join the old man… you'll come with me, and come quietly…" Cristin whispered emotionlessly with a sharp undertone threatening every precious thing in the young huntress's life. When Cristin moved to threaten the young man sitting across from Nadia, they were both shocked and a tad thrown off when they discovered that Dean wasn't there anymore. "…Damnit… Deeaann…. Now's not the time to be playing hide and seeeeek! We just want the gun… and Sam… and her… are you _really_ willing to sacrifice all three of them to keep that damned Colt safe? We're still going to find you and the Colt… and when we do you can join them."

What Cristin and her black, soul-less eyes hadn't been expecting was a tavern full of seasoned hunters; all pointing shotguns, and talisman's at her, mumbling exorcism chants and curses straight out of a Key of Solomon. Nadia actually began to laugh at the spectacle. "Didn't think you'd find yourself in this sticky sort of situation, huh Cristin? Now take me to my sister… if she's hurt… at _all_… you'll wish you had never crawled from the hell you came from!"

---

**Tee-he, hope you guys are enjoying the direction I'm going in... cuz it only gets crazier from here... yea, so, reviews... awesome little things... yea, yea, on to the next chapter, lol.**

** love.**


	15. The First Throwdown

**Blah, ok, chapter 15! Damn, I'm getting pretty far in this story. Important notice: aside from not owning the Winchesters, Big Bad, nor the Impala... updates will be coming in a bit slower soon, they'll be comin in one at a time and maybe once a week, School starts up again for me on wednesday, but I'm going to try to write as much as I can until then. Here's the last of what I got for now...  
**

---

Reality and sobriety had both viciously slapped Dean in the face when he saw Nadia's features grow taut in concern and fear; the transformation angered him, actually. He wanted _so much_ to make her smile, make her happy; to ward off fear, pain… anything short of true happiness from her like salt would ward off malevolent spirits. He'd seen Cristin walking towards them long before Nadia did; he knew as soon as she made her presence known he had to sneak away, and sneak away he did. Quietly disappearing amongst the plethora of aged hunters he snuck out to his car to retrieve the Colt and fill it with the bullets Sammy had handed him before they left for the bar.

He hid half-hazardly when he heard the girls exit the tavern. He thought he'd see Cristin pushing Nadia mercilessly to a spot where some kind of brawl would occur, or where the possessed girl might kill his fellow huntress… _No, I _won't_ let that happen…not to her_. But instead he was slightly shocked to see that it was Nadia who seemed in control of the situation, followed closely by Mean Maureen and ol' Lady Langley.

They were walking towards the back lots of the building, so he followed in the shadows, quietly, stealthily stalking after them. _Gotta remember to thank Sammy for these bullets later,_ "…or not." he thought as he began to see the shapes of Cristin's associates, then he stopped short, as did Nadia, when they saw the 'opposing team'; it was another young couple, holding Emily up—since she could barely hold herself up, she looked like she'd been beaten to hell—and the one person who, with the black soul-less eyes, made Dean's blood run cold: Sammy.

Soft voices drew him from his desperate thoughts, Nadia was speaking to Emily and Sam, "Emily… what did they do to you?" he could tell she was terrified of going to her sister, the demon couple gave her testing glares; completely disregarding the huntresses backing Nadia. "Sammy… you're so much better than this, fight it… I know you can, you can beat it; _god_… what would Dean think?"

_Good question… better question: what the hell is my next move? I need to get in there and do something…_ he thought, easing into full-on hunter mode. His stony hazel eyes slowly scanned the area, gauging his chances and every possible scenario; in the end he didn't like the situation he was about to step into… not one bit. Sammy's harsh and hurtful tone cut through his brother's thoughts like a freshly sharpened knife.

"You know Nadia; it's almost sweet how you mindlessly care for people you know nothing about… I'm almost touched how broken you felt after your last vision. I mean, what to you _care_ who the Demon kills? Why care if it kills the ol' fart? It's not your problem, it's not happening to Emily over here," he snarled, turning and motioning at the wounded girl, "none of it has anything to do with you… so why do you all of a sudden _care_? And Dean… you know Big Bad is going to come and kill you, leaving you to burn where big brother Winchester can only watch… just like Sammy's Jessica. You know he'll do that to you, yet to continue this charade with Dean… like somehow it'll be different in your case…"

Nadia shuddered, staring brokenly at the pavement before her as Sam's cruel words sunk in, "Nadia… there are no exceptions when it comes to demons like us." Cristin and the demon couple looked extremely bored as Sam continued onward with his rant; and as if she couldn't take it anymore, Cristin flicked her eyes to the elderly huntresses protecting Nadia and with the slight twitch of a smirk all three went flying backwards and away from Nadia.

She sighed agitatedly, "Dia, sweetheart, did you really think that a bunch of old biddy's could protect you from us? Ha, ha… you're alone Nadia, no-one can protect or save you or Emily now…"

He would deny it to high hell and back again; but for as much as Cristin and his possessed brother mercilessly slighted Nadia, it wasn't their words that shot acid into his veins but the faint, forlorn whimper their victim released as she fell slowly to her knees in defeat. "Hope it's not too late to crash this crappy party…" he exclaimed cockily, as per usual, keeping part of himself partially covered by shadows to hide the Colt.

"Dean," Cristin actually seemed genuinely happy that the older Winchester brother was finally making an appearance, "so nice of you to finally join us. You know, I still have yet to repay you boys for that little exorcism you pulled on me at Bobby's…" she said as she flicked out a butterfly knife and held it threateningly to Sam's throat; who simply looked at her blankly.

"…Sam…!" he mumbled nearly taking a step forward; he froze when he remembered… _That's not Sam, not my Sammy…Sammy has green, worldly eyes… not those black things…_

"You know what, Deany… you're right, _Sammy_ _is_ lost to you now;" the knife dropped from his brother's neck, "don't worry, I still know another way to bring you to your knees, _Hunter_." Her final word was venomously spat in his direction as she grabbed Nadia's jacket and wrenched her to her feet and replaced the blade against hers as she held the huntress firmly in front of her, shielding herself from anything the hunter could possibly be planning. The demon smiled sourly when she was rewarded with the reaction she'd hoped to draw from Dean.

_Dean…_her thoughts begged, ringing in his head…_please don't get yourself killed trying to save my ass… kill them, do what you can to save Emmy and Sam… but don't—_

_No Nadia,_ his thoughts retorted harshly_, don't you let them win…we've fought too hard to forfeit everything now. Now _fight them_, fight harder than you've ever fought before_. For a moment, he was worried that Cristin had stabbed her from behind by the way Nadia snapped her eyes shut; but the sudden shift in air pressure told him differently. Everything felt slightly heavier, and everyone's hair looked as if it was being pushed down; concentration claimed the gifted huntresses features, her left eyebrow twitched upwards, but it seemed that was the only change.

The demons looked about with a slight sense of panic as the pressure built and thickened and caused them to be a little disoriented; the couple dropped Emily's arms completely, Dean felt the weight of the girl's body crumpling to the ground in his chest, he was strangely glad that Nadia was so focused that she couldn't see her sister fall.

"What's happening… what's going on… **brother**!" Cristin demanded as she turned to Sam, looking as baffled and tense as he did.

"Generally guys… this is why you don't pick fights with a psychic demon hunter… especially if you bothered to take a glance at what sorts of abilities she might possess." Dean quipped sarcastically; anger consumed Cristin, taking a quick step or two to stand in front of the girl, she drew back her fist to knock Nadia out. Her knuckles never came into contact with its target; Nadia's eyes flew open as Cristin's hand froze less than an inch from her nose.

"What the…" her attacker whispered as she was assaulted by the unusual presence of silver irises speckled with lightening bolt-esque blue streaks; the eyes were wide and fearless, daring, mocking, glued on the surprised demon.

"That's not very nice, Cristin…" she deadpanned after cocking her head to the side; satisfied with the obvious dread she'd placed in her old friend she turned to Sam, "and _you_… Sam was intended for many things… but being invaded by one of you damnable creatures isn't one of them. Get _OUT_!" the silver-blue eyes narrowed hatefully and a black cloud erupted from Sam's mouth and eyes, when it was finally gone, the younger Winchester swayed and collapsed next to Emily.

"…Sam!" Dean gasped as he began to run towards his brother. _Wait, Dean… we'll attend to our siblings when it's safe; he'll be fine where he is, he can protect Emmy from there_._ Give me the gun, Dean_. She stretched out her hand towards him, palm up and open, never looking away from Cristin. Glancing down at the Colt to make sure it was loaded, the gun was ripped from his hand, landing in Nadia's grasp; the girl wasted no time in pistol whipping Cristin.

"You are occupying my _best_ friend's corpse, she taught me to fight dirty… not a quality of a good little hunter, but it gives me the upper hand… I'm not killing you just yet because… my-my sister... needs—" she paused, gasping painfully when she felt her heartbeat become rapid and painful, looking down at Emily she saw quite plainly that she was feeling her sisters pain; it was intense, more so than any pain she'd ever felt through her empathic abilities. Remembering that she needed to be strong and act as such for Emily, she tried to push away the pain her sister helplessly projected unto her, it didn't seem to be working.

Cristin, though shocked, began to laugh inanely at the entire scene before her. "Humans and your pointless emotions, they weaken you… look at yourself, Nadia… your emotions for your sister are keeping you from even standing up_ straight_!" she taunted loudly as she pushed her down to the ground by simply pressing her pointer finger on Nadia's forehead. "It's made you so weak… I could kill them all right now, and even _with_ your freakish powers… you won't be able to stop me."

She chuckled again, seeing that the tears trickling down Nadia's face was proof that she was right, "Ya know what…? I think I'll do _just_ that… but, I'm a patient demon… and I'm certainly not selfish. I'm going to let my little brother and sister here have their fun with you… Oh, don't worry about Emily… I'll make sure she watches every second of them torturing you." As if sensing some cocky remark from Dean, the demon whipped her head around to face him, "…and you, Dean, be a good little boy and don't interrupt the show." Blinking her eyes back to demonic black pits, Dean found himself plastered to the back of some old and run down van; all control over his movements and voice ripped away from him at the same time.

Cristin's head twitched in Nadia's direction, signaling to the young demonic couple that it was time for them to have fun with the huntress and with twisted, wicked, crooked grins they approached their victim while Cristin sauntered slowly over to the wounded younger sister and Sam, who was still unconscious. As she smiled evilly upon the two younger siblings, she sat on Emily's lower back, grabbed a fistful of the curly brown hair and wrenched Em's head off the ground just enough for her to be forced to watch her helpless sister without running the risk of a broken neck. "Enjoy the show squirt!"

Even as her sister's pain crippled her, and Dean's terrified thoughts roared in her head; Nadia held the Colt in a death grip, struggling to lift the weapon she pointed it at the young man advancing towards her with menacing speed and squeezed the trigger. In a flash, she brought one of her attackers down with a bullet to the arm; with a slight struggle, she managed to smirk at Cristin. She'd underestimated the huntress in thinking she wouldn't be able to better her odds, turn the tables just slightly on her enemies.

However, she wasn't so lucky in taking the girl down so easily. The teenage demon grabbed her by the collar of her leather jacket and head butted Nadia so hard, she could have sworn she saw stars. From the odd angle of the impact, the possessed girl's forehead slammed against Nadia's right eyebrow, effectively splitting it open; partially blinding her as blood poured into her eye. Due to the set back of the gash, the little bitch attacking her was able to throw one successful punch after another; but as she landed a strike under her chin, knocking Nadia to the ground, as she fell she was finally able to bring the gun up just enough to bury one of the special bullets square in the girl's sternum, shattering the bone as it hit her point blank.

For the first time since her empathic skills struck her with a curve ball, she lay on the ground reveling the break from the beating she'd received. The feel of the pungent pavement actually felt cool on her aching body, easing the raging fire that burned in her head. Coughing up a bit of blood, her head rolled to its side as her sight fell upon her fellow hunters and Cristin.

Weakly she attempted to lift the gun once more to end her old friend's suffering, _if Cristin was still in her grave she'd be rolling over in it… her spirit probably isn't too happy…_ Dread overtook whatever bit of her wasn't wholly concentrated on the immense pain ravaging her body when she couldn't even lift her wrist from the ground. Her friend's possessed corpse seemed fiendishly content with Nadia's lack of mobility as she got up from sitting on her broken baby sister and strolled over to where she lay, spent and bloody. "Not everybody's cut out to be a demon, I guess… it's too bad, ya know; I was hoping to make it easier for you. If you had _just_ let them kill you… you wouldn't be forced to watch me kill your sister, I know how protective you are of her… can't say I didn't try doing something nice for you," her expression was woeful, but her voice held nothing but pure pseudo-sorrow, "oh well… it's time for the grand finale, huh?"

Cristin's left hand clasped onto her face with ferocious pressure as she effortlessly hoisted Nadia from her spot on the ground; squeezing harder at every feeble attempt to turn away from Emily. "How should she go, Nadia… huh? Should I force you to point your precious Colt at the squirt and manipulate your fingers to pull the trigger, make you hate and blame yourself for her death until you follow her into the unknown… no? Slit her throat… rip her heart out through her chest… run her through with my knife… what'll it be, _DiDi_?"

Nadia gave no answer, she just continued to tiredly claw at the hand grasping her jaw, eyes overflowing with twin raging rivers of tears. _I failed you; Emmy…all I ever wanted was for you to be safe…_

"Seems to me you've fucked up quite nicely, great big sister _you_ are… were…" the bitter sting of her sadistic words stabbed at Nadia like a million blades. Inches from her face, Cristin was curiously observing her reaction, her thoughts, the emotions she loathed so much. Vaguely, momentarily, she remembered that even at her rotten, baleful core… had _she _been in a situation remotely similar to Nadia's, she would probably feel the same way… if she were capable of letting such frivolous things such as emotions consume her, anyway. "I know… how about we do a little reenactment of what she witnessed when her big sister had her first vision… _that_ sounds like fun…"

Slowly and menacingly she turned her head towards Emily's barely alert, limp form; the girl flipped onto her back and skidded a little as an invisible force kicked mercilessly at her. Her concentration was torn between watching Emily suffer and enjoying how the brutal attack affected her sister, the racing heartbeat, the disorienting dread consuming her… just feeling Nadia's resolve dissipate against her fingers gave Cristin a thrill. Smirking, she unleashed the full ferocity of her attack… the whole nine yards. "Ya know… when Sammy over there was possessed… he was half-way right about something; of you and your annoying little boyfriend over there… one of you will die like your father and mommy's did, like Jessss did." She hissed in the gifted huntress's ear,

"Only, he's not going to kill you, not yet anyway… sweet little Jess and Deany over there have a little thing in common you know… a connection I'm sure Sammy knows, if he thought hard enough about it… _Big Bad_, as you guys have so cleverly dubbed him, will come after him soon enough; if he's taken care of the little business that's keeping him from being here right now."

Nadia sobbed through clenched teeth as she involuntarily beheld the agonizing sight of every muscle in Emily's body go taut, back arching clear off the ground, hands desperately trying to scratch at the relentless constriction in her chest; struggling to draw in even the tiniest bit of oxygen. Nadia quivered as her sister's pain slammed against her, wishing that she could black out from the lack of oxygen in her body instead of Emily. Rage swam dizzyingly in her head, synchronizing with the fear and anguish that swam in Emily's; once more Nadia's eyes clenched shut, opening to reveal a second appearance of the striking silver-blue eyes. The scream that erupted from the young psychic broke every window of the cars so far as twenty feet away from her, fruitfully breaking the grasp Cristin had on her; it even managed to release Dean from his phantom restraints, throwing him harshly to his hands and knees.

Angry hands clasped dangerously to the collar of Cristin's shirt and jacket as the tables turned once more between the girls; the wind began to pick up as Nadia's glare became wholly focused on the demon before her, tendrils of bloody flames flew and fluttered about her head as she spoke, "I think it's time for a little girl-talk, _Cris-Cris_; you see, I _know_ you came here with intentions of killing me and mine and claiming the gun for yourself. But, you fucked up when you decided to lay a _damned_ hand on Emily Coltier," She paused a beat, letting what she said sink in, "because now… _I'VE GOT NOTHING. LEFT. TO. LOSE_! If she dies… I've got _nothing_ left in this world to lose, which means without any shred of regret, live or die… I will waltz _right_ into hell and destroy every last one of you son's a-bitch's… and if you happen to be fortunate enough to still exist when that happens… I'll make you watch, you'll be the last to die at my hands."

Cristin glared back with a bit of confusion in her narrowed black eyes, "… what?"

"Guess _daddy__dearest_ hasn't caught his miscalculation just yet… _I_'m ready for him, I'm ready to face and _kill_ him, and all of his little bastards. Samuel Colt's last descendant is ready to come forth and kick your daddy's ass with the family gun… and an arsenal of bullets; this baby ain't restricted to the six bullets the Winchester's found it with anymore." She whispered venomously into the demon's ear, sounding almost as evil and deadly as Cristin did in both this body and Meg's. "When I let you go… unless you want your lowly existence to end right here, right now, I suggest you get as far from me as fast as you can…" releasing her death-grip on her clothes, Nadia took a step back in show of keeping her word, "… beat it."

Dean watched in disbelief as the huntress actually let their adversary go, let the demon who damn near killed Emily walk away scot-free, "What the hell are you doing!"

Once Cristin's figure disappeared from everyone's line of sight, Nadia acknowledged the hunter's words, turning to face him and felt a stab of shame when he trembled slightly at seeing her silver-blue eyes still smoldering with rage fall on him. Even while they retained their fearful color, her gaze softened and she tilted her head to regard his well being, "Are you okay?"

He nodded slightly; still unable to lock eyes with the steely, unnaturally colored orbs.

Remembrance sparked an odd look of deep concern in the huntress as she pivoted swiftly to look for Emily and Sam. Her breathing quickened when she saw that Sam had regained consciousness and was cradling Emily's limp, unmoving form in his long arms. Sprinting the final few feet between the younger siblings and herself, she gently picked her sister up from Sam's grasp; tears of relief rained down when Nadia's fingertips found a pulse thumping against her fingertips. Hugging the girl close to her, she sobbed into her sister's curly hair, "Ugh, _Emmy_… god I was so afraid… I thought I lost you…" Fear refused to release her from its grip as she realized there was still a very real possibility that her sister could die from the attack.

"Nadia…" Sam's quiet, apologetic voice began; she could almost feel the shame and regret in it, "I… I don't know what to say… I don't know what happened… please don't… I didn't… I'm… I'm sorry, if I did _anything_… to, to hurt her…" they all knew words could never express what he was trying to say, what he was trying… hoping to mend.

"Don't Sam… just, don't. I know it wasn't you… so don't say it… I don't want to hear it, I don't ever want to be reminded about what just happened…" her eyes never strayed from Emily's pale face, her voice shook with pain and hatred; even if she didn't say it, and for as much as she was sincerely trying, a bit of her couldn't help but feel slightly resentful towards the boy, regardless of his inability to control his possessed self or not. When she did look up, she only looked at Dean; this time, however, he remained stony and statue-esque as he watched the scene before him. Inside he crumbled at the image of her vulnerability; she seemed so lost, childlike. "Dean…? She needs help; fast… call an ambulance, I…"

In seconds flat, he had his cell out, impatiently awaiting for someone to pick up; offering them a tiny grin of reassurance. All at once, Nadia's eyes returned to normal, the adrenaline that had once been gushing through her veins had all but dissipated, leaving her feeling heavy and weak. _Don't leave me, baby sister_. She thought as the familiar blinking lights and barely audible sirens of the ambulance cut through the thick cloud of thoughts consuming the huntress's mind; she vaguely remembered seeing a paramedic, accompanied by Dean, approach her and Emily as she went limp, her world swirling into darkness.

---

**Mwah-hahahaha! Evil laugh, lol. Hope you guys enjoyed... and remember, this is still only the _tip_ of the iceburg!  
**


	16. The Worst Goodbye and Troubling News

**Jesus tap-dancing christ!!!! Guys, I am so sorry it's taken me this long to update anything for this story. My computer had a near fatal brain fart(...mmm, or hardrive fart in this case), it finally gets back in working order before I got bitch slapped by midterms. Brain goo, there's brain goo dripping from my ears! But fear not, my faithful readers! I've come back with two chapters in hopes of making up for the time between my last update and now. 18 is in the works and should turn out to be a doozy!! Don't pay too much attention to the spoiler on my profile, some of the stuff that was _supposed_ to be in these two chapters were pushed back for 18 and 19; I'd like to have those up by the end of the month, we'll see. Anyway, my darling readers... CHAPTER 16!!!...**

* * *

As Nadia made her slow return to consciousness, the first thing she noticed was the noise: speaking, wheels rolling, soft chatter, files and paper being played with and prodded at, distant beeping, and doors clicking, opening, closing, some swinging annoyingly. The next thing she knew was the feel of coarse yet cushy padding underneath her. But it wasn't until she made her first attempt at willing her rebellious eye lids to open that she knew, from the blinding and _monstrously_ annoying bright lights, that she was in the hospital. 

The hushed conversation from what she guessed to have been going on the other side of the room she was in stopped. A rough hand clasped onto her left hand from its resting place over her stomach, "Hey there… how're you holding up?"

Dean.

His words were soft and heavily concerned, paired with his touch the events of the past couple of hours came gushing into her head, swinging hammers against the walls of her skull. Lifting her head, a little bit too quickly, nausea and sheer panic made her sight blur and warp. Nadia let out a miserable groan as she felt Dean's other hand press lightly against her right shoulder, guiding her body back against the hospital bed; once there, it traveled down to her upper arm and rubbed at her appendage comfortingly, effectively calming her a bit… a bit. His hand had found its way from her arm to its most recent spot cupping her one side of her face as she tried opening her eyes a second time.

"I _hate_ being mortal…" she grumbled, pinching the bridge of her nose with one hand, weakly grasping the hand on her face with the other; _This light is pissing me off… why can't rock salt work on light bulbs like it does on ghosts?_

The girl was half-way surprised when she heard the man sitting on the edge chortle at both of her complaints. Impatiently, she turned her head to block half the light, tackling the rest of the brightness with her left hand. The thump of her fingertips over white gauze not only caused a spark of worry, but produced a dull pain that made her headache and nausea worsen. "… Nngh, sonovabitch!"

"Careful there, hun… 16 stitches isn't something I'd want to agitate…" gently, he tugged at her fingers, moving them off of the blood splotch on the thick, itchy square of gauze. The mere contact from her fellow hunter shocked her with bolts of comfort and relaxation, and following that state of mind Nadia slowly curled herself into the fetal position, careful not to knee Dean in the back.

"Stitches…? What the hell for, man?" mentally rewinding the nights events, she had no idea why there would be any talk of stitches.

"Well, for one thing… you got the crap kicked outta ya by two demons, which, by the way, you handled them both nicely considering how banged up you were and the fact that there were _two_ of them; I'm surprised you only needed 16. Secondly… that little demonic bitch busted your head open when she head butted you." Her eyes flicked left to right, searching for any remembrance of a demonic smack-down. _Now, the head butting I remember… bitch's head was made of cinderblock…_ Again, Dean laughed.

"Tell me I got her back ten-fold?" in her mind, it was supposed to come out as a growl; but as the words spilled from her lips, they were whispered so quietly, even Dean had a hard time hearing it.

"Yea… shot her with the Colt… right in the sternum… you had the whole Matrix effect going on when you pulled the trigger on her, too." He recanted with a smile. Nadia's lips lifted uncomfortably into the tiniest of smirks, even that upset every bump, bruise… and the bastard facial gash, apparently.

Moaning, she slowly tucked her head closer to her chest, "Don't make me laugh, Dean… even trying not to throw up is painful… how long have I been out?"

"Uhhh… about two hours now, you sleep like a rock, I would have woken up and freaked out if there was a needle in my face while unconscious…" _Don't laugh, don't laugh, don't…ha, ah fuck, I lose._

"Demon Hunting Poster-child, ladies and gentlemen…"

"Hey now, I can take a needle no problem… I'd just rather be alert when people are working on me…" the indignant murmur would have caused Nadia to burst out laughing, but she'd finally been able to school herself and remained still and quiet on the bed.

"So what's the damage report?"

"Not much… a few bumps, bruises and the occasional scrape… head-wound aside…"

"I meant on all of us, Dean." She said as she sighed out a yawn.

"Oh, well, that's how you're doin'… Sam's got lump on his head from when he hit the deck, hard to tell under that mop, though…" he half-heartedly left out the mass bruising on his own back from shoulder to the small of his back.

"… and Emmy… did—did she make it?" Dean's heart constricted painfully when he heard the return of the vulnerable, childlike tone. He felt the loath-worthy lump rise in his throat; he swallowed it back painfully, almost unsuccessfully as he carefully chose his next words.

"Yea… yea, she did; but—I'm not going to lie, Nadia —it doesn't look too good for her." the lithe body, curled inward, stiffened sharply in reply; watching her closely, he expected that she's either start crying or retching. One, he was able to handle… the other; however, he didn't want to be within a ten foot range of.

"_How_ bad…" desperately, she bit back the tears and sobs between clenched teeth, causing her to sound a lot more cold and impatient than she actually was.

"She's on Life Support…" _why do their lives have to suck out loud like this?_ "Those bastards beat her within inches of her life… add in Cristin's damage… they're giving her a couple of days… at the most… God. I'm so sorry, Dia… I can't even imagine…" he lied, had it been Sam, he would have gone mad while still in the parking lot.

Placing her free hand, limply, on his forearm, Nadia managed to bring his words to a halt; inhaling sharply, with watery jewels trailing from her eyes, she thought: _I know, Dean…_

"We tried… we really did try hard…"

_Yea… we did, we did our best…_ stopping for a beat, she whimpered; a silent cry for consolation as she braved the pain and tightly shut her eyes, only opening them after she felt Dean's cool forehead rest lightly against her own. _Can I go see her…? I don't want her to be alone and scared…_

The brief wink that answered her before the light-block moved away from the bed allowed partial relief to the panic still swimming about in Nadia's head. When he returned with the wheel chair, he gingerly scooped her up from the bed, and was slightly caught off guard by the tight hug she ambushed him with. But he didn't tense nor pull away, instead he returned the gesture, allowing her to melt against him in the obvious relief Dean's presence served his fellow huntress.

Once situated and through the door, the two made the seemingly endless trek to Emily's room two floors up; the halls were large, stark and grievously ominous. Both hunters felt heavy with the apprehension of seeing the younger girl, lost in their own worlds as they rolled/walked over square after square of the tacky, plastic tile with its dirty appearance of off white with ash grey streaks. Nadia had little patience for hospitals, and knew that Dean most certainly hated them; as the distance between herself and her sister slowly shrank, her vague memories of this particular hospital haunted her, reducing her liking for hospitals to damn near non-existent.

Wariness flared in her chest when Dean finally rolled her up to Emily's door. She stared frighteningly at the entryway for a moment or two before gripping onto Dean's hand as he began to reach for the handle, "Wait… I'm—I don't think I'm ready to go in there just yet…"

"Want me to go in for a minute or two… til you're ready?" her eyes remained glued to the door the entire time, never leaving, her brown orbs full and spilling over in a residual terror. Jerkily, she nodded her reply. "Okay, just knock on the door when you want to come in."

Nadia waited until he disappeared behind the door, once again closed, before the whirlwind of emotions ravaging within her broke loose. Silently, she leaned forward, leaning her forehead against her wrists as her elbows sat on the armrests. She shook forcefully as she allowed every little feeling of guilt, anguish, hatred, and bitterness leave her within each tear; after a good 15 minutes she maneuvered herself as close to the door as possible, not caring whether or not anyone saw the drying streaks of tears drenching her face. One hand lay flat against the doorframe as the last of her troubled tremors left her.

* * *

Inside…

Dean closed the door carefully behind him after entering the room, when he turned to face Emily he was taken aback by the way the once energetic, mouthy young huntress seemed so fragile and pale. Her weary eyes opened at the sound of a chair being pulled close to her bedside, dazed and tired she looked at him, offering a smile, clearly false by the amount of fear evident in every inch of her expression. Dean returned the gesture with a deeply apologetic and brief grin, "Hey there, tiger… you look like you're about to go kill a bastard!"

"Ha, ha, Dean… I'm dying, not blind; I know I look like shit." The snarky remark was as blunt as usual, but from the frailty of its speaker and tone… the bite of the words were lost. "Wasn't exactly expecting a visit from you, though…"

Dean grasped his chest in overdramatic mock-hurt, gasping loudly; "What!? And _why_ not?!"

"Well, I'm not the one you're in love with… for one, and I'm not the one teaching Sam to control his powers; I'm just her kid sister, nothing really special there."

"Got news for ya kiddo: that's bullshit; do you know how important younger siblings are in our line of business?" Emily tried with difficulty to laugh at the incredulous look on his face, "People like you and Sammy give people like your sister and me a purpose, a reason to get up in the morning. I don't think anybody knows just how lost Nadia will be when… I don't think _she_ even knows…

"Sammy and me… we both care for the _two_ of you, a lot. Not just because he needs help with his Shining deal that he's got going on, not just because I love your sister, and it's definitely not just because of the friggin' Colt… you guys are probably the most bad-ass girls I've ever met; I mean, I've been hunting my _whole_ life… and I can still count all the huntresses I've ever met on one hand, none of them can top you guys." The way her eyes started to glitter as she smiled scared him… _is she starting to go…?_ "Anyway… even if you lived to be a hundred… you'll never know how much you mean to us Winchesters… When you get there, wherever _there_ is, can you do something for me, and for my brother?"

"Sure, what can I do?"

"Say hey to Jessica for Sammy, and hang out with our mom, Mary… let her know that her boys are venturing about with high quality women, 'Kay?" Emily smiled with some of her old vigor at the pseudo-stern look Dean was displaying, complete with waggling finger.

"I'm on it… is DiDi out there?"

"Yea, she said she needed a minute or two before she came in here. I'll go see if she's ready…" freezing suddenly inches from the door, he turned back to Emily with a grief stricken expression, "For as short a time it was, Emmy… I'm glad my brother and I got to know you." Returning to her side, he leaned in and kissed her forehead after brushing back a mocha colored curl; sniffling, she wrapped both arms around one of his, hugging it tightly.

"Thank you, Dean…" she sobbed, "for making life a little less lonely for us…"

_I'm tearing those demon assholes limb from limb… this just isn't right…_"No problem, little one, no problem." They remained in their embrace for a minute or two more before Dean heard the soft tapping at the door, pulling back he noticed that in her weakened state, Emily hadn't heard a thing aside from her machines and his quieted breathing.

Biting her lip, she nodded her 'thank you' with tearful eyes, watching as the hunter looked around himself before opening the door to help Nadia enter; as he disappeared on the other side, he dazzled her with his trademark smirk… one last time.

Now, Emily knew perfectly well that she was _far_ from the image of perfect health, but when Nadia rolled in—coming to a stop only when she grimaced from her kneecaps colliding with the bars underneath the hospital bed—her face fell. "DiDi… you look like shit."

"Good to see you too, sis." The elder huffed, gingerly rubbing at her knees; _that's__going to suck in the morning…_

"I wish I had more time…" the younger murmured, fiddling with the white blanket draped over her body.

"What… more time for what?"

"To… I don't know… you and Dean, god, I've never seen such a great couple; and he cares _so_ much about you… about us. Nadia… tell him about your last vision, he won't run, I promise… he's far too enamored with you to ever walk away." Nadia nodded sadly in reply while she inched her hands closer to her sister's, "… hun, don't try to heal me…"

"… I…"

"Bullshit, we both know you were going to try, and we both know what will happen if you do… it won't be enough to save me, and it'll kill you; look at you, I'd be surprised you could have a vision right now without slipping into a coma." Nadia looked at her in shock as she chided her, when she finished, she looked away almost as if the proper reply was written on the floor someplace.

"Ugh, a coma would be really bad right now." She groaned as she rubbed her forehead, jumping with a hiss when her hand found the gauze, again. "…fuckin' demons…"

"Yea, that head-butt looked like it sucked hardcore… how many stitches?"

"16 apparently…" her face softened when she paused, as if remembering how critical a condition the youngest Coltier was in, "… I'm sorry kid… I'm sorry I couldn't save you…"

"Oh shut the hell up," the demand brought Nadia's attention to just how close to passing Emily really was, her usual fiery spirit was barely ebbing now and growing colder with each passing second. "I might have bitched about it at first, but this is all we've ever known. Life was getting dull anyway, you saved me from that; besides, you know better than me we can't save _everyone_…"

"You're not just any victim of this shit, Emmy!" frustration boiled over in Nadia, provoking the verbal explosion, "You're my _sister_, my family… the only one left."

Calmly, Emily laid her hand on her sister's arm; Nadia jumped at the touch of her baby sister's icy hands, "Dia… how many people, in our family, do you think ever got a chance to say goodbye in the end… or were able to die in a quiet hospital room?"

Clearly shaken and disturbed by the question, Nadia forced herself to look Emily straight in the eye with momentary bewilderment, "Uh… ah, I don't know… I don't think any of them got that chance; least not since the gun was made…"

"Well damn, DiDi; it looks to me like we're breaking traditions left and right. For all we know, it could be you and your children that start an altogether _new_ tradition." The youngest mused gently, each word came out more and more hushed; her energy and ability to speak dwindled noticeably. "Goodbye Nadia, I l-love you… very… much…"

"Not now, Emmy," her sister begged desperately, "_please_ Emmy… no, not now, don't leave me… don't go, don't go where I can't follow…" tears fell freely and rapidly as she sobbed, forcing each word out, "…I _need_ you, baby sister… don't die, don't—" but no matter how hard she cried, no matter how much she shook the silent, cold and still form on the hospital bed… the only response Nadia received was the blaring sound of her sister's heart flat lining; a noise that frightened the fuck out of the remaining sister, leaving in it's wake the harsh, uncaring realization: Emily Coltier was dead.

"… tsk, tsk, and you _could_ have saved her, too…" a tiny voice hissed patronizingly, catching her off guard; Nadia's head shot up with a gasp, she sniffled once… twice while looking wide-eyed around the room for the owner of the voice, but it seemed as though there was no-one there.

"Who said that… where are you? Show yourself…" she demanded sternly, voice still breaking a little as she fought her emotions back.

"You know who I am…" it taunted, louder this time. This time Nadia was able to tell where it was coming from: near the window a few feet from the foot of the hospital bed. Smoked billowed and twisted menacingly slow before the closed blinds of the window, revealing the dark silhouette and glowing yellow eyes that haunted Nadia's nightmares more often than she cared to admit.

"You _bastard_… if it wasn't for you, she'd still be alive!" the huntress seethed through clenched teeth as she glowered at the formidable being.

"Now, now Nadia, that's not a very polite greeting, now is it?" It scolded sardonically, "She could have lived whether or not I existed in your lives…"

"What do you mean?"

"I _mean_, dear child, that you _could_ have saved her… had you surrendered your powers and soul to me, joined so _many_ of the other little children like you, realized your true potential and destiny… _then_ you could have tried to save her and would have done a very good job in succeeding." Nadia rolled her eyes at the matter-of-fact tone Big Bad explained himself with. "…but, you didn't, spent most of your life resisting me, and now little Emily is dead. I wonder just how long you can continue living with all this on your conscience. You know, it really is a sad little scene I find you in… pity I don't let emotion weigh me down, had I a heart… I'd probably be in as bad a shape as you, Nadia my girl."

"_What do you want_?!" she spat angrily through fresh tears of mourning mingled with loathing.

"You… if you're ready to finally give up this ridiculous little charade and come home to your brothers and sisters, my child; come with me and join the others like yourself, follow through with the plans for which you were born. You're finally free of the thing that's kept you _human_… come home, Nadia, forget the things that make you suffer." He coaxed adamantly, "You are already beginning to let the evil in you peak out at the world, you let your sister's killer go… by the way, I appreciate that, and I'm quite surprised by it, too. I mean, she killed your sister, disturbed your deceased friend's eternal slumber in possessing her, _and_ slashed your uncle's throat… yet you _still_ let her go? You, Nadia, are an amazing specimen amongst all these wretched mortals…"

"_What_?!" she exclaimed disbelievingly, confusion and shock swirled about madly in her head.

"Oops, guess you didn't know that last little evil deed of your friend, oh well…" mock-alarm resounded in his voice, ending with a deflated murmur alongside a defeated little shrug. "The boys know what I'm talking about… just ask them about an old friend by the name of Meg…"

"Is this how you try to win people over? Cuz it's a piss-poor tactic, I'll never join you, never do anything evil; we devoted our lives to fighting evil a long time ago, don't think I'll stop just because the last of my family is gone." She barked defiantly at her shrouded adversary.

Sighing he lowered his head, veiled by darkness, and turned his heel to take a step towards her, "I see I came a little too soon, when you're ready, daughter… I'll know."

Rage boiled in her brown orbs, she testily watched him as he moved about the room; finally she'd had enough when he addressed her as 'daughter', "I am _not_ nor will I ever be _your_ daughter… I had a father, he was a good man, and _you_ _murdered_ him! So help me god, I'll see you destroyed and _when_ I do… I'll _laugh_."

It seemed completely unphased by the venomous promise, simply looked over his dark shoulder at her before colliding with the wall and dissipating in a cloud of frantic smoke. Nadia stared coldly at the spot for a moment or two prior to being slammed back into her grief as she remembered that Emily would no longer be there to calm the acidic hatred eating away at her insides at the very thought of The Demon. _He said I could have saved her… No, no Nadia, he was lying to you, he was trying to sway your loyalty…there was nothing you could have possibly done to save her…_

Out of the corner of her eye, she spied what looked to be the corner of a book peeking out from under Emily's pillow. A single, gentle tug revealed the journal they'd found at Pastor Jim's days before; hugging it tightly to her chest, Nadia's fingertips scraped at the worn leather cover, as if she were trying to reassure herself that the book was, indeed, there in her grasp. The huntress's thoughts were suddenly jarred by a knocking at the door; she pivoted her head towards the noise as the door clicked open. "Hey…"

"Dean!" Nadia interrupted mournfully, leaping from the wheelchair she rushed to the young man, collapsing when she was certain he had a good hold on her and wouldn't let her fall. As the girl sobbed against his chest, Dean cautiously let his gaze wander over to where Emily's body lay. Understanding sank in quickly, and he found himself feeling unsettled by death for the first time in his life; he'd just never seen it this way. A small shudder trailed up his spine as his focus lingered idly on the screeching machines connected to the frail looking form of the doomed huntress, knowing that the blue-grey pallor of the once exotically olive toned skin would haunt his thoughts until the end of his days.

"You okay?" he asked quietly, rubbing comforting circles on her back.

"Who's Meg?" ignoring his question, she felt anxiety flare within herself at how Dean's body went rigid against her at the mention of this 'Meg' person.

"A girl that Sam and I knew… she was possessed…"

"Was she one of those upper level jerks?" it was almost as if he wanted to avoid the subject completely, saying as little as possible, responding in head movements where a simple yes or no would suffice; she knew she wouldn't like what she was digging up, but guilt and urgency fueled the questions, and they flew out of her mouth before she got a second chance to think them through, "… she killed my uncle, didn't she?"

_What the… is there a leak?_ She thought as she felt a drop of warm liquid fall onto the top of her head, when she looked up at the Winchester… her answer became crystal clear. Dean's jaw was clamped shut, cheek muscles twitching once or twice, aside from the dazed glitter of threatening tears and the slight quiver in his chin his face remained blank. _He's crying… holy shit, he's crying…_ "And now she's taken my sister from me. That's why you yelled… when I let her go… you knew the things she'd done to my family in the past…"

There was a beat of silence before he inhaled sharply, nodding with his eyes glued on Emily's lifeless face.

"… I let her go… she killed Jim, tortured and killed Emmy… I'm sure she's tried to kill you guys… and _I let her go_…" her confusion quickly morphed into disbelief and disgust, Nadia wrenched herself away from Dean and began to stare at her hands like they had suddenly turned into ten rotting tentacles. _Their blood… it's all on my hands now…_

"Nadia… you _didn't_ know—"

"NO, but _I should have_! Dean, I should have known better… 'the only good demon, is a _dead_ demon', just like Jim used to say, and I didn't listen…" with her hands shaking frantically, she slowly backed away from Dean and out of the room, away from her deceased sister, away from the man trying to save her; with each inch she put between herself and what she was fleeing from the more hysterical she became.

"Nadia, don't start this self-blame crap… that Sammy's hobby and its bad enough when he does it. Now, calm down, you need to calm down." In truth, had their positions been switched, he would have blamed himself, too; but, as per usual for the elder Winchester brother, Dean would have kept it to himself, secretly kicking himself in the ass about it. Even now, in his attempts to calm her, he refused to think any of this was Nadia's fault; she had no idea about Meg or the things she'd done, she hadn't even had a vision about it… how could she have possibly known?

Nadia, however, didn't see it that way; taking into consideration what she'd just learned, a new thought came to her and infected her mind. _It all makes sense now…_ "Dean, please… stay away from me, I'm poison; I'll destroy anyone who comes too close… I don't want to hurt you, Dean; I don't want you to end up like _her_!" Wincing at the emotional and physical pain it brought, she pointed haphazardly at her sister's room; when she found her way to be partially clear, Nadia broke into sprint in light of her sudden desire to be far from her late sister and the hunter.

So she ran, despite her injuries, lightly, stealthily dodging obstacles in her path. Each step shot bolts of white hot pain up her legs, her leaden arms swung quickly at her sides regardless of the fact that they felt like they were about to fall off or become consumed by fire. Every inch of the huntress ached from her injuries, but as she fled, she felt nothing; just the cold stab loneliness topped off with exhaustion. Even when she came to a screeching halt, Nadia still had yet to realize that blood oozed from her ripped brow, leaving a thickly saturated lump of gauze loosely taped to her forehead with a disturbingly large red streak of blood flowing down her cheek; though, it didn't seem as bad as it was due to the shower of tears intermingling with the blood trail.

Gasping, she didn't know if the person she saw standing a couple of yards in front of her were actually there, or if the massive amount of sudden blood loss was playing tricks on her eyes. Slowly, the huntress inched towards the man, clinging to her uncle's journal for dear life, "… John?!"

* * *

**Ahh holy crap! Such a heartwrenching chapter to write, I dunno how it did it, but the required reading of Rena's Promise(a damn good book about sisters surviving Aushwitz) _really_ helped in shaping this Ch, as well as structure and whatnot. Anyway, hope you enjoyed, cuz it's all kinds of crazy from here on out. Reviews-- little reminders that I haven't completely lost my mind from midterm week.**


	17. Hurt Not Evil

**And now for something no one saw coming... from what I could tell. I'm sure some of you guys are still wondering about Nadia's last vision and where the hell John and Jebidia are... 2 out of 3 of these ponderings will be answered... Now...**

* * *

"John!" She exclaimed in utter shock and surprise at the sight of the veteran hunter standing a good twenty feet from her in the seemingly abandoned hallway. As her brief distraction of shock dissipated, grief and pain once again coursed in her veins, causing her to clutch Jim's weathered journal closer to her stomach; squeezing air from her lungs, resulting in a slight difficulty to continue breathing.

John didn't seem to notice the misery emanating from the young woman, he was simply content with seeing a familiar face where he knew his boys were, without a doubt, lurking about. A tinge of nostalgia forced his scruffy grin to widen when his eyes landed on the old book in Nadia's grasp.

"Haven't seen that ratty old thing in a while," he drawled out gruffly, the huntress nearly smiled as his scratchy voice tickled her ears. Since she was a child his rough, life-long-smoker speech had always been strangely soothing to the elder Coltier sister; and now more than ever, she would have welcomed the comfort. But in light of this unhappy reunion, instead of solace, she was left feeling just as empty, alone and cold. "Haven't seen you Coltier girls in longer, come to think of it. How are you and little Emily these days?"

There it was, the straw that broke the camel's back. The question that left the reeling huntress undone, she had already felt her resolve cracking like Humpty-Dumpty at his moment of impact _before_ her run-in with Daddy Winchester. It was as if her hearing blanked mere moments before her sisters name was mentioned, but she still felt the terrible sting of reality in watching how his jovial eyes examined her as his words formed the deceased huntress's name. Nadia felt the final snap of losing her grip, the whip-crack of the slip, the nauseating weightless free fall prior to the beautiful crash landing of her self control. All quickly followed by the cruel, enveloping flames as her heart was thrashed into the Land of Lost Fire.

Not that she'd ever been very fond of fire in general, but the absence of fire in her heart and soul rendered her a hopeless shell of a person.

John realized too late what he'd unintentionally done to his fellow hunter. He watched as the once strong and statuesque young woman, in all her burning glory, smoldered and crumpled like ash. "What happened?"

"...She's dead..." Nadia gasped, her breathing returned to a panicked, heavily laborious rate; lithe frame swaying until it collided with the wall inches to her left, which was mainly comprised of ceiling to knee-level, dark tinted windows, continuously stretched–side by side–all the way down the one side of the hall. As if overly dramatizing a slow agonizing death by a dagger to the heart, she slowly sank to the ground; eyes glued to the invisible mark on the ground between the two of them. "... she's dead, John. I'm all that's left, and I never had much of a chance to begin with."

Blood red locks hung like a curtain, shielding Nadia's mournful face from prying eyes as she lowered her gaze further to her scuffed, muddy, blood spattered, black leather boots. Her body quaked in a shuddering sigh. The presence of defeat radiated from her so powerfully it could bring the strongest and coldest men to their knee's.

Which is just where she found John Winchester the moment she began to look up.

"I–I'm so sorry, Nadia..." his eyes glistened in an ancient, now shared, grief.. Loathing for whatever dark force that caused said tragedy illuminated his unshed tears as he reached out to place a consoling hand on her shoulder. But it froze half way in a confusing and unreasonable uncertainty, it hung there for a moment before his fingertips gently pushed back the crimson ribbons veiling the girl's face.

"It should have been _me_ that needed Life Support..." she cried, "It was my _job_ to protect her, keep her safe... I failed her, John.." Her words grew in intensity and gradually became sharp, vehement. "It should've been _me_ who died... god, what I wouldn't give to take her place _right now_!" With that, the young psychic's eyes sprang open, unleashing pale silver-blue orbs upon the unsuspecting hunter.

"There's a new trick... when did that start happening?" he asked cautiously; suddenly unaware of which was worse: the unnaturally colored eyes ablaze in anger, or narrowed from intense confusion.

"W–what?" she whimpered, clearly thrown off guard.

"Nadia, you're eyes aren't blue-silver, but right now that's the exact color I'm lookin' at."

"I–I had no idea.." _What the hell? A new power? Seems pretty pointless to me._

"Power? Like Sammy and his visions-kind of power?!" he demanded, Nadia stared wide-eyed at the revered hunter.

"John... I didn't say that out loud, and I most certainly wasn't trying to project my thoughts just now..." she whispered fearfully, beginning to mirror the look of cautionary suspicion that was blooming on John's face.

"Just how many _powers_ do you have?" He held his doubting gaze, whereas Nadia began to try to press herself harshly against the wall behind her in fear of the look he was giving. _Knowing_ what types of things he normally reserved that look for.

"A lot... what do you want me to list every last one of them? We'd be here all week!" she exclaimed weakly, seeing exactly what false thoughts were beginning to take hold in his mind.

"I've seen eyes like those before..."

"John... no..."

"But last time I saw them..."

"..._please_! You _know_ I'm not..."

"...they were yellow."

"No... it's not true, you don't honestly think that I could possibly be..."

"My question is what makes you so special that they're not black like most of the other's?" She deflated, each word stabbing at her painfully.

"...evil. You think I'm evil!? That's _crazy_, John!"

"Is that what happens to the kids like Sam that Big Bad has control over?"

"_No-one_ has control over me... Have you lost your mind?"

"...my boys... _where_ are they? What have you done with them?!" He raged loudly, Nadia flinched at the volume, but could not suppress an equal reaction.

"_Done to them_?! I haven't _done_ a damn thing to them! I'm _helping_ Sammy learn to control his abilities... if you must know!" she roared, surprisingly causing John Winchester to take even the smallest step backward.

"So the Demon can take him with a little bit more ease?" he countered, eyes narrowed, everything about the statement seemed like a snake was striking at the young huntress.

"So his powers don't end up _killing_ him, John! These accusations are insane!" Nadia's eyes began to glow in their vibrantly unnatural hue, physically shoving the hunter backwards without lifting so much as a finger. Instantly, they grew even _larger_ in realization of what she'd just done. Her legs shot up and curled against her chest protectively, and she began to hug her knees so tightly that she felt the agonizing pins and needles claim her limbs almost immediately.

Unlike the frightened young woman, John Winchester did not back down in result of the unintentional attack; if anything it made him push harder.

"I would never have though it... the mailman, a doctor, a bus driver... all possible demons I could have seen coming... but _you_? I used to see such innocence and good in you..." the words cut deeper than any blade, and Nadia sat trembling in tears as each cut deeper than the last, menacingly, relentlessly, "... and Emily? Was she evil, too or just a poor girl caught in the crossfire of your darkness?"

With a loud gasp, Nadia ceased a majority of her crying and seethed through clenched teeth livid words at the insult directed at her dead baby sister.

"_Damn you_, John! Kick me all you want, regardless if I deserve it or not... but don't you _dare_ throw dirt on Emily's good name. Clearly you _have_ lost your goddamn mind! I mean, you're our _godfather_ for fuck's sake!" she screamed in desperation. Struggling against the now excruciating pin pricks of numb nerves, she attempted to move; either towards the middle aged man who slowly, cautiously inched away from her or to run away from John and his outrageous accusations... she didn't even know. The only result was a clumsy tumble, though she was already sitting down against the wall, she fell awkwardly on her left side and proceeded to weakly press herself against the wall. In utter fear, born from the wild look in her godfather's eyes, that he would–at any moment–do to her what he did to every evil creature/entity he came across: destroy, kill.

But she was assaulted by neither attack nor the continuation of his poisonous rant. Instead she felt two large hands clamping onto her shoulders, shaking her vigorously from where she lay stunned.

"...up, Nadia... C'mon, please... you gotta wake up!" Sam begged, voice dripping with trepidation as he tried to rouse Nadia. Just when he began to fear the worst, she jerked awake, frantically pushing herself away from where John had been; even when she realized it was Sam, she continued to try to squirm away from the younger hunter. "Oh thank god, for a minute there I though you were..."

His sentence trailed off when he finally saw what she was doing, glad he went silent when she stiffened in anticipation of what he was about to say. Wide, petrified silver-blue eyes caused him to lose his train of thought completely.

"Dead? Unlike Emily... no." Each word gushed forth upon the waves of their own individual gasp; tears flooded her eyes, spilling down her cheeks in shaky lines of silver and blue.

"Em–? Oh god, Nadia...I'm–"

"Do you think I'm evil, Sammy?"

"What? No, of course not! Where the hell did you get that crazy idea?!" his eyes shimmered in the harsh hospital lighting. Either his grief at Nadia's loss hit him much harder than she thought, he was deeply saddened by her question... or he knew something else was wrong.

_Great. More good news_. She though dryly before noticing the shift in the electricity in the air. New thoughts, familiar emotions flitted about in her head. She finally picked up on how drastically her senses and abilities had sharpened since wandering into the hall. But as the last remaining specks of silver and blue drained from the windows of her soul, she felt terribly weak; senses dulling back to their normal level.

_Dad... the last time he got to see me, we were arguing... great son I am. If only there was something I could do... god, this is going to kill Dean..._

"...John..." she murmured sadly, Sam must have just found out. After nervously averting his line of vision from the glassy frightened brown orbs before him, Sam's eyes snapped back to the huntress at the mention of his father's name.

"Dad said you were evil?... Just now?" He asked, his face contorted in confusion, though his voice remained soft and consoling. He leaned back as it dawned on him, "You knew... you knew he died... why didn't you say anything?"

Guilt and remorse blossomed in Nadia's already broken heart at the way Sam looked at her. For the first time she noticed the unmistakable childlike innocence that Sam appeared to embody, even though she was well aware the young man was far from innocent, hadn't been for a majority of his life. Opening her mouth, she stumbled clumsily over her words. "I–I..." she huffed in dejected frustration "it's not that I didn't want to, Sammy... I was just... afraid you'd both hate me and leave. A–and the vision? The last time those had ever hurt–at all like that–was my very first one... this last one... my god, I–I can't even _begin_ to describe it..."

"_That_ vision was about dad dying? Why would him dying while in a coma cause pain?" he mused aloud, hoisting himself from his crouching position with a hunter's grace, holding out his hand to help Nadia up. Hesitantly, she studied the open hand as if deciding whether or not it would bite her if she took it. Trusting him, she accepted; waiting until she was back on her unsteady, tingling feet again to answer him.

"Sam... he was murdered." Sam froze, and she picked up on the heavy feeling of shock that permeated off him in waves. "...it was the Demon that did it. I–it was like he was making me watch, I was helplessly pinned to the wall and everything. Forced to watch, forced to feel your father's pain. I don't know why he made _me_ watch..." the twin dams restraining Sam's tears broke and he cut her off with a sudden embrace, soaking the top of her head with gushing liquid pain. All three hunters had lost people very close to them within the last 12 or so hours; in all that time, she would never have imagined receiving such a reaction. When her gifted student clung to her, grieving for both departed hunters, Nadia felt within herself a new ray of hope bursting through the thick clouds of assumed loneliness and isolation. Blinking away her surprise, she raised her arms and returned the gesture. _Maybe I **will** be alright again... someday... I **won't** be alone after all..._

"Alone? Why would you ever be alone again?" Sam's voice rattled in his chest, alleviating some of Nadia's tension. "I think you'll find it takes a lot to get rid of Dean and me, especially since my brother's all kinds of crazy for you."

Despite herself, she began to laugh; there in the lulling warmth of the young Winchester's lanky arms, amidst the weight of exhaustion and grief, Nadia allowed herself a few minutes of openly displaying her raw emotions. Every proverbial wall crumbled when she rested her head against his chest, body shaking in sobs, synchronized damn near perfectly with Sam's.

His strong and steady heartbeat thrummed against her ear, coaxing her mind to linger towards falling asleep once more. Flashes of John's cold confrontation with her flitted before her mind's eye, reminding her that falling asleep would be a **bad** idea at the moment.

"Do you want to tell Dean... or should I?" Sammy's husky voice, wrought with emotion, cut through her hazy thoughts like a hot knife through butter.

"I don't think it would be my place to... he was your father, Sam. If Dean's anything like me, he'd want to hear about this from either a doctor or a family member. And I'm neither of those things."

"...yet..." He mumbled quietly, just as quickly trying to cover up his comment by loudly clearing his throat.

"Huh?" Nadia questioned with drooping eyelids. Sam immediately noticed how tired she was, had she not been, she'd be physically twisting his arm by now, demanding he explained–in detail–what he meant.

"Well you look alert! C'mon, let's go find Dean and head back to Missouri's, there's nothing else for us to do here. You look like you could use a year's worth of sleep." he joked, hooking an arm around the back of her neck, other hand in his jeans pocket, as they walked together back in the direction of where Emily's room had been.

"Let me tell ya, Sammy-boy. Miss America's started watchin' her back already, apparently 'drained-psychic' is pretty much impossible to find unattractive these days... and most difficult to compete against." chuckling softly in reply, Sam was relieved to provoke a humorous comment from her.

* * *

The drive back to Missouri's was silent and somber, nothing like death of a family member to make silence seem so loud. At one point in particular, Sam became so annoyed by the absence of sound that he fiddled with the car stereo, the cassette in the machine–Judas Priest mix tape–was set on bleeding-ears loud.

Any other instance and Dean would have clapped his hand on his little brother's shoulder and actually admit–face to face–that he was proud of Sammy, _finally_ listening to good music. Instead, Sam felt his brother's knuckles slam into his right shoulder blade from the back seat. Where Nadia had finally succumbed to the release of much needed, and heavily feared slumber. Resting comfortably against Dean's chest, gently cradled by one of the hunter's toned arms; greatly comforted by his strong grip and the soft caress of a calloused hand along her tear-chilled cheek.

The entire trek from Emily's room to the car, she denied being tired, argued with the brother's about her need to relax... that they would help take care of Emily's funeral arrangements, anything to keep the young woman from getting overwhelmed by grief or crumbling from a nervous breakdown. Even as she stumbled, vision blurred with weariness she insisted that she'd be fine. Almost chided Dean for jumping into the backseat of the Impala with her, until he told her to be quiet and lean on him.

She was out like a light before they even left the parking lot.

"Dude, turn it off... you want to wake her up?" he grumbled lowly.

"Sorry, it's just... usually I don't mind quiet, you _know_ that. But this, _this_ silence? What just happened, what she's just been through? The silence is driving me nuts, man." giving the tiniest of shrugs, Dean signified his agreement. "How's she doing anyway?"

Sighing deeply, he swivelled his head back to where he could closely examine the multitude of bruises and scrapes that marred the huntress's peaceful face... not to mention the nasty gash, covered by a fresh, annoying, and bastardly itchy square of gauze. For a moment he became enraptured by how mysteriously childlike and vulnerable women looked when they slept...

"...Dean?"

"Hmm... yea, she's fine. Fine as she's going to be for a while." the older brother stated calmly after being ripped from his quiet musings; inwardly, each muscle screamed to never let her go, never let her get hurt again. Unfortunately, he knew for a fact that demon hunting had minor to major injuries listed as part of the job description; he couldn't protect her from harm any more than he could lick his elbow. It was inevitable, someday she was going to get hurt during a hunt. Though, if he couldn't be there to lessen the wounds, or swoop in to be the superman of the hour to rescue her... he'd be seeing red, killing any and every evil thing that might stand between Nadia and himself. Corporeal or not.

Somehow, through all the turmoil that ran rampantly in his head, he knew things would be alright for her. So long as he was there, offering his hand for her to hold... so long as she wasn't alone, she'd smile again. In his moment of hopeful thought, or clarity, he began to wonder: was she dreaming? If so, was it happy, was it safe and warm were her mind wandered? Studying her sleeping face, he didn't find any answers, just more questions. It was peaceful, yes, but blank; no emotion broke through, twisting her features into any set expression. He thought on how, since a very young age, he'd mastered doing the same thing so neither Sammy or their father could tell that he was having the same terrible nightmares that plagued his sleep since the fire... he'd especially done it for Sammy, so he didn't get scared or ask questions. It was a sure bet to him that Nadia had done the same for Em. Perhaps, even with her sister gone, she was still stuck in the habit of concealing her dreams... maybe she was hiding something from them now. He didn't know, she was unreadable.

She simply slept.

And right now, that was good enough to keep him from worrying too much. He'd do everything to be the rock that steadied her resolve when she woke, but for now she would lay sleeping in the arms that would welcome her over and over again until death claimed one or both of the hunters.

Nadia's mind, however, was far from peaceful; what was once her escape from the terrible things she'd seen and fought in her life, now mirrored and multiplied it's cruelty. There were no colors, no smiling faces, no-one hazing or accusing either. No, it was much, much worse. For as far as her third eye could see, there was darkness. Stark black that stretched over every inch of her imagination; never faltering, never fading, nothing lay in contrast. Just inky black space, where she seemed to float helplessly, alone and terrified. Burned by an inhuman cold, scorching her down to the core of her bones.

_Emily's gone, so is John... but still, he thinks I'm evil. I can't be, can I? I don't feel evil... just hurt. Betrayed by my past, now my only glimmer of hope is my future, the brother's. My _whole_ future are these two young men._ She thought numbly, suspended in the nothingness. _But how long will that even last? How long until their view of me mimics their father's..._ Her mind continued to twist and turn with thoughts while she dangled motionlessly in the astral plane. _I'm jealous... I am, they've had their father for this long. Do they have any idea how lucky they were to be able to cling to him for so long? What the hell am I thinking? I... I'm losing my mind, aren't I? This is mindless rambling... this plane is too cold for me to cope with life. When did I even fall asleep...?_

A single tear, serving as a harsh souvenir of the dream, slid down her cheek as she shot towards consciousness. But something restrained her from waking, yanking her backwards with a tug similar to the bouncing sensation of bungee-jumping. Tossing her back into the sticky web of empty, rambling thoughts. Leaving her helpless to whatever could come next. The empty void suddenly filled with the crackling explosion of large yellow glowing eyes.

_Oh god, no... please_! She mentally pleaded. _Take me back to the warm and loving faces in the car... not this, anything but this_! The silent pleas went unheard in the murky void surrounding the glowing orbs.

High-voltage electricity struck her as the unspeakable images began their onslaught. Big Bad's big game plan played out before her, too weak to turn away; like a deer in headlights she observed the Demon's bloody victory. Inside, her blood ran cold as she witnessed what she and Sam would do if the creature had it's way. The things they would lay to waste, the extensive massacres they would carry out with evil smiles of satisfaction. If she had any control over herself whatsoever, she would have cried out in despair at what ended the sinister presentation. Laughing evilly, truly enjoying the pain she caused, evil-Nadia slew the one good thing left in her life with her bare hands: Dean.

Jerking awake with a half-choked, strangled cry, the huntress caught both brother's completely off guard. "NO!" she gasped, panting heavily in result of her sudden awakening. A battle of indecision between breathing and trying to force out a scream waged heatedly within the gifted young woman; clinging to Dean's arm for dear life somewhere in the midst of it all. Eyes wide in primal fear and a ruthless-if-need-be protection of what/who she clung to.

"Whoa, easy there, tiger. That works best if blood's allowed to circulate." Dean exclaimed soothingly "What'd you dream about?"

Slowly, Nadia loosened her death-grip on his arm, easing herself back into reality; eyes flicking quickly from side to side.

"Nothing..." pausing for a beat she licked her dry lips "at first there was nothing but solitude and cold. I... felt utterly alone... started to wake up, I think. Then I... I was thrown back, I saw_ his_ eyes. It was unnerving... then I saw–oh god, the things I saw. I know what his plans for us were..." Fear trickled from her voice, planting itself deeply within her small audience. Unshakable apprehension claimed the man at the wheel, cautiously he snuck a glance at the couple in the backseat every couple of seconds. His feelings stood bare and vulnerable as he finally found the courage to question.

"Were?" Sam's voice trembled; behind him, his brother fumed dangerously, hating the reaction Big Bad could so easily elicit from his two companions with a passion.

"The two of you _aren't_ his puppets...never will be, not if I've got anything to say about it!" Dean huffed unwaveringly, body rigid and stony as his words.

"It would be damn near impossible now, considering all we've lived through so far. But... _had_ our lives been _any_ different, yes, we would have been his mindless pawns. He likes to believe he can still turn us, despite the fact that he's _mad_, and that there's just too much going for us; harboring us on the side of good..." she agreed, laying her head against the mass of carved muscles beneath Dean's shirt.

"Like what?" the driver questioned again, spitting his question more out of fear than the anger it came across as. While Nadia couldn't be bothered by her student's tone, Dean's temper began to boil at his sibling's attitude; earning the soft placement of a feminine hand over his heart as Nadia, calm and collected in her thoughtful daze, hoped to calm him.

"Dean, for one..." Sam went silent and his eyes grew soft and distantly focused on the road, "my tattoo's are another big help for me... the colt being in our possession...and you're learning to control your powers from me." she stated, listing things off, oblivious to how Dean lifted his head triumphantly at topping said list. "Not to mention our upbringing... the final assurance, in my mind, happened when I lost my parents and you, your mother and Jess: their blood, not falling on our skin. That's how he got to the children like us, that's his method of collection, he could control them more easily that way." Both brother's froze, however, when they thought back to Sam's second fire. He'd become aware of Jessica's presence on the ceiling only because of the droplets of her blood falling on his forehead..

"That's not _entirely_ true for me, Nadia..." He admitted squeamishly to the rearview mirror, leading the huntress to cock her head in dewy-eyed confusion.

"No?"

"The first time... from what I've been told, yes; by an inch or so. But with Jessica..." distantly, Nadia slowly scanned the area around her, brows furrowed in intense thought.

"Still, that's one thing against all other factors keeping you from his grasp. That and your susceptibility to possession can easily be taken care of... just give me a couple of more days and we'll all be totally immune. I've got an old friend coming to town who can help out where your brother and I can't."

For as sure of herself as Nadia sounded, Sam had a fairly disquieted feeling that she was hiding something. Especially since she had been so shaken when he found her back in the hospital. _Asking if I thought she was evil? HA!_ He thought, _But I have to wonder what brought **that **on..._

"Hey Nadia?" the youngest of the trio piped after a long drawn out moment of silence.

"Huh?"

"Do you have the ability to control minds?"

"Tele-coercion? Ha! No... what a ridiculous ability. No good can ever come of such a waste of power. Why?" Dean listened thoughtfully to the outlandishly casual exchange, realizing that his brother had yet to really be fully informed of his instructor's qualifications.

"So what powers do you have? I don't remember if you've told us about them already or not."

"Aside from mind control, the better question would be what abilities I _don't_ have." she quipped dryly, attempting and failing to focus on something past the Impala windows as the car traveled onward.

"Okay, what about the thing with your eyes... what's that one all about?" Dean nearly laughed aloud at how perfectly normal Sammy made the unique ability sound. Though he had to give it to him, it was a good question.

"Honestly? I didn't even know about that little 'gem' until this morning. I mean, I've got a couple of theories in mind... I'm just not entirely sure, though–"

"What kind of theories?" the youth interrupted.

_Geez, what's with the curiosity? Does this kid have nine lives or something?!_ She thought, stunned.

"Uh... I, um, _well_... it might be a side effect of a psychic energy boost, ya know, like somebody's clipped jumper-cables from my powers to the Energizer Bunny... um, _or_, my abilities are still maturing and we're starting to see a sneak preview of things to come. It could even be a visual indication that I'm having some adrenaline-induced psychic punch. It could be a variety of things... some people might even go so far as to jump to the conclusion that it's the first signs of me going evil..."

"Now that's bullshit." Dean insisted. "If that were the case, why was Cristin so freaked when they made their grand entrance last night?" he argued, vigorously rubbing at the girl's upper arms after feeling her shudder harshly upon the mention of her deceased/possessed friend.

"Is _that_ when it started happening?" Nadia asked.

"You don't know when it happens?"

"Well... since it's a new power, no, not really; I'm _starting _to pick up on what happens while my eyes are like that... but aside from that, I don't even understand it's purpose." she explained dazedly, while her fingers played with the cuff of Dean's leather jacket.

"What sorts of things are you picking up on?"

"Hmm... oh, uh, air-pressure shifts, senses sharpen, abilities enhancing tenfold..." she listed distantly.

"You exorcized the demon controlling Sammy just by telling it to get the fuck out." the gratitude in the older brother was more than obvious to both younger hunters.

"I did?" Dean nodded with his telltale smirk playing upon his lips as Nadia stared in wonderment; Sam glanced back worriedly.

"Don't you remember?"

"Guess not... a lot of last night is kinda blurry, but that might be because of whatever the good doctors at the hospital have me on. I mean, it took me a while there to remember what happened to me that could have possibly required stitches, I don't remember how or when I fell asleep in the car OR why Sam found me asleep in the hall earlier–that's a huge fuckin' mystery to me." Dean's grip tightened slightly as she divulged the last bit of information, shooting his brother a 'What the hell happened?' look.

"Asleep in the hall?" he asked incredulously.

"Yep..." she exclaimed, distantly.

"Care to elaborate on that one?"

"The way I found her, it looked like she fell and hit her head on something..." The younger man tried to explain before his brother held up a hand to silence him, his focus never leaving the girl lying against him.

"And you?"

With a sigh, Nadia let her head fall back limply until she was eye to eye with Dean looking sadly at him as she began to chew on her bottom lip. _Don't make me talk about it yet, please Dean._ Without a second thought, he nodded lightly; he'd allow the rest of their ride back to Missouri's to be one of silence, and, he hoped, of rest on Nadia's part. Bobbing his head rather quickly, Dean gave the girl in his arms a goofy little peck on the face, just missing her mouth.

Nadia chuckled softly at the quick action and the brief grin that laughed with her, just before darkness swirled in her vision once more and she found herself falling into a more forgiving slumber.

* * *

**Yay, update complete... for now. For those wondering, just so I don't leave anybody confused as fuck... Nadia is slipping into hunter-mode, so to speak, so she's constantly in a daze, hyper-alert, and more than likely won't easily be pulled into a conversation concerning the late Emily. Every other possible question as to what happens next will be answered--hopefully--in the next couple of updates. Until then, review cuz you rock!**

** Later darlings!  
**


	18. Bad News During a Purple Haze

**Omg, whoa! What the fuck is this? I'm BACK! Oh snap. lol. Sorry I've been on hiatus so long, it wasn't--by any means--intended. My laptop completely crapped out on me on christmas... great holiday gift, huh? Finally got a new 'puter in late april and recovered the files from my old laptop a few weeks ago. So, my most sincere apologies for the six month delay. My ideas have gotten bigger and more insane... alot of fun is on the horizon!! Hope you enjoy this one, let me know!**

**ON WITH THE SHOW MY DARLINGS!!!**

* * *

Chapter 18: Bad News During a Purple Haze

Nadia wandered aimlessly in the painted gardens her subconscious created for her; time seemed as still as the shrubberies and sea of flowers surrounding her. Scoffing lightly, she realized what her tired mind had concocted for her to dwell within:

_A Monet painting_..._ o–k random_.

Kneeling before a dreamland-paused pond, it dawned on her.

_The stories I used to tell Em to get her to fall asleep_..._ endless gardens where she'd be forever safe from the things she feared. But why is everything so still? I always described this place as being animated with the touch of a warm breeze_... _I know, it's because she's gone. This is all I have left of her, and it's in my head_...

Looking down in reaction to the strange swishing noise she heard when she moved, she discovered her clothes had changed, and instead of wearing jeans and her favorite tee she was barefoot and clad in a faded navy dress, hugging loosely at her curves, thin straps falling off her shoulders; it was satin and weightless, but the one attribute of the garment that didn't make her cringe was the ripped hems.

_Ok, ripped hems is nice and kinda punk_..._ but why a dress?!_

Distant and gentle, male voices rang out in the sky high above the girl, tilting her head back, ignoring the tickle of her loosely curled crimson mane, she listened intently to the voices. Wondering numbly why the voices sounded so familiar, where had she heard them before? They were still too distant and soft to discern.

'We're back'

'Dude, not so loud... she's still asleep.'

'Oh, sorry. Why don't you take her on upstairs... I'll go fill Missouri in on everything.'

_Missouri_..._ I know that name_...

Before her ponderings could question any further, a thick fog descended over the entire scene, causing Nadia to feel weighed down and dizzy, disoriented. Tiredly blinking her eyes, her oil-paint paradise faded and fell away from her; the voices became louder, abrasive to her strangely delicate hearing. Dense fog morphed from its morose moss-green and grey to the familiar swirls of inky blackness. The black of a demonically possessed eye.

_Cristin_... _Meg_... _That __**bitch**_.

She blinked her eyes open once.

The morose grey lingered long enough to smudge the edges of her vision momentarily and she remembered the voices...

It was the brothers.

"Don't slam the–" she twitches at the slam of a car door "–door." With a huff, sleep hazed sight is confronted by a blurry face, possibly only a couple of inches away; even with the sands of slumber dawdling behind drooping lids she could easily surmise that the obscured face belonged to none other than the illustrious Dean Winchester. "Hey there, sorry if Sammy woke you... I'll kick his ass for it later. We're back at Missouri's."

Smiling sleepily she buried her face in his chest, shrouded in a sea of dually layered shirts and weathered old leather jacket; allowing herself to drown in the ocean of fabrics she mumbled while wiggling about, desperate to obtain a more comfortable position in the backseat. The half-conscious, muffled reply crawled weakly to his ears, "Five more minutes...?"

Her breathing pillow shook and rattled mirthfully in response. Normally such movements would irritate the woman-hunter, causing her to complain about such distracting motions; but now... now she chose to ignore the world around her completely, willing her imagination forcefully to return to her inner paradise, forever suspended in a fleeting instance. "First you flat out deny how tired you are, and now you want five more minutes?" Dean shakes his head with a disbelieving smirk "No one said you had to wake up... I'll carry you to your room, okay?"

His voice billowed in amusement, echoing back to her from the unusual acoustics of the Impala's interior. Both remained quiet for a beat, Dean was almost convinced she was fast asleep and wouldn't respond. Until she feebly nodded, otherwise limp in slumber.

_Okay then, upsie-daisy Sleeping Beauty._

With a speed and agility that would have left the young woman awestruck–had she been awake–Dean gently kicked open the car door and carried the grieving dead weight of the last living Coltier inside, relieved in catching a fleeting glimpse his brother and the old fortune teller as they disappeared around the corner leading to the parlor. Soundlessly he ascended the staircase, footfalls cushioned by the thick layer of dirtied-white carpet. It wasn't until he crossed the threshold of Nadia's room, utterly winded, that he noticed his own fatigue.

Had he slept since the attack?

Had he eaten anything?

Coffee?

Treated his own injuries?

So many thoughts and questions fluttered through his head all at once. The room spun. His eyes ached. Back screamed. Every muscle in his body was writhing in an orgy of seizures. Dean Winchester had never felt so drained in his life. The moment of his realization, his body and laundry list of aches/pains overthrew his mind's control to orchestrate movement. Swooning, he collapsed onto the double bed, landing next to his unconscious companion.

* * *

"Samuel Winchester... it's about time you came back! Where were you kids? I've been worried sick, fearing the worst!" Missouri scolded austerely, her tone fading into a soft concern.

"We need to talk, Missouri"

"Why? Where are the girls and your brother?" her face fell and she allowed the budding psychic to lead her to the parlor upon seeing him wince as she mentions the girl**s**. Sam's gaze remained downcast as he guided Missouri to a couch, refusing to meet the blank yet fearful expression he felt himself being pelted with. Sitting himself down on the opposite side of the coffee table, he inspected every inch of his hands, unsure of where, exactly, he needed to begin. "Sam... What happened?"

"M–"stopping he struggled to keep his resolve from crumbling "Missouri... we were attacked last night." he squeezed out, gulping back anger and grief. Had he the will power, Sam just might have laughed at the way the old woman sat frozen in shock; she looked like she belonged in a wax museum.

"I... I was possessed," the words came to him agonizingly slow "Dean... was forced to watch helplessly... Emily was beaten within an inch of her life... and Nadia, ah geez, poor Nadia..." his head shook in disbelief while tears pooled along his lower eyelids; glittering like a million minuscule diamonds.

"Her empathic abilities were going off at the worst times, they made her watch the second time they beat Em–provoking a new power to surface... which is how we got out of the attack alive. But Em... Emily..." his voice caught in his throat, shaking his head again, tears streaming furiously "She had it the worst. Its grotesque enough... what they did to her. But... it was agonizing, how she held on so tightly... just to see her sister one last time; how Nadia was so adamant in wanting to go to her, to make sure she wasn't alone and scared when..."

The old reader gasped painfully, clamping a hand over her mouth at the ill news. "Emmy's...?"

"Emily's dead, Missouri... as if that's not bad enough... so is Dad." both the youngest hunter's voice and resolve shattered upon mentioning his father; Missouri wasn't sure how much more of the tragic news she could handle, with the strangled sob that broke free from her throat she was able to tell she wouldn't be able to handle any more.

"A-and Nadia?... Dean? Where are they?" trepidation paired with heartbreak seized Missouri, heart and soul; bracing herself for more terrible news.

"Dean's fine... worried about Nadia, if anything. She's pretty broken-up..."

"I can imagine... those two, they made you and your brother look estranged."

"Nadia's all banged up, 16 stitches in her right eyebrow from a head-butt... passed out from exhaustion before we even left the parking lot. Dean took her upstairs... haven't told him about Dad yet, I don't know how to tell him..."

"And you, Sam... How are you doing?" his head drooped forward dejectedly while the youngest Winchester reflected on the question.

Sam's chest puffed out, doubling in size, his jaw clenched tightly as he takes the dizzyingly deep breath; quivering, weary hands rub at his eyes before he makes his answer known. "I'm doing terrible, I feel guilty... it's not _completely_ clear, but I'm pretty sure when I became possessed I was the first one to... hurt her, also during the possession, I... god, the hurtful things I said to Nadia. She says she doesn't want to talk about what happened... ever, she says she doesn't blame me for what happened... but in her place, I blame me. I wouldn't blame her if she refused to continue teaching me how to control my powers... I get her last shred of family killed, she let's my 'gifts' destroy me, seems like a fair trade to me."

"Poppy-cock, Sammy! Never say things like that ever again... and especially don't _think_ them around her. It's ridiculous. '_Fair trade'_... my FOOT!"

* * *

The jarring vibes of sorrow looming precariously about the house shifted drastically, suddenly, causing the huntress to shoot straight up from her previously peaceful rest. Panting gently, loosening the fearful surprise she felt upon waking, she scooted off her bed and walked nimbly from her room without looking anywhere around her; her sights focused on the door, once she passed it, her vision shifted it's focus to Emily's door. Anxiously, Nadia's fingertips pushed her sister's door open until the wall behind it held the slab of wood back from moving any further. Blindly, she stepped into the room.

"Emmy... I had the weirdest dream, you'll never believe the shit that happened..." she clucked in humored disbelief "We met back up with the Winchester's and got attacked one night, and you died... Emmy...? Emily now is not the best time for hide-and-seek... Em? Where are you?" pivoting she ran soundlessly from the room in a heated search for her mentor. "Maybe she's with Missouri..."

Chewing on the corner of her bottom lip, she grinned playfully while speeding off towards the parlor. All movement stopped cold when she saw from the doorway that Missouri looked upset as she talked to some young man with shaggy hair.

"Nadia... my poor baby!" Missouri exclaimed softly upon seeing the perplexed redhead appear at the door way as suddenly as a ghost could flicker before the naked eye.

"Missouri? What's wrong? Do you know where Emily is... I had this really weird dream she'd la–" the old reader shook, releasing a single muffled sob into the back of her hand. The young man on the couch turned towards Nadia and her whole world seemed to crumble. "...Sammy?... but..."

In the blink of an eye, Sam had left his spot on the couch, gathering the befuddled girl in his arms without reacting to how clammy her skin became when she realized her worst nightmare had truly happened. She wasn't dreaming.

"No... No! Th-this can't be happening... it can't be true... it... it can't be!" she thundered, the sharp edge of her cry lost and muffled by Sam's shirt. Grabbing at Sam's shirt desperately, Nadia's knees buckled. The ground below her felt like it had given way. The only way to keep herself from falling into the unknown was to cling tightly to the bunch of cotton between her fingers. Stiff arms hugged her with the same strength as her elegantly thin hands as they clasped to his shirt. She shook like a leaf, she breathed as if she'd just run a marathon; but there were no tears, no sobs. She wants to fall to pieces, but just can't bring herself to weep.

_Damn the emotional walls, the blocking, and the training_... _damn it all, damn __**everything**_..._**straight**__ to the fires of hell_... _and damn the flames while I'm there_...

She's seized by a rather painful hiccup before she goes silent and still; tuckered out by the sizable iceberg of pain floating densely inside her chest. "Shit..." she swears under her breath in realization "I should probably call Brotha Drake and make sure everyone's okay at Johnny's... 'cuse me..."

Wordlessly, Missouri and Sam allow her to walk away and out towards the kitchen, snatching the pack of Parliaments and lighter in time with opening the back door. No sooner had Nadia lit the small nicotine filled cylinder of stress-relief she had her cell out and speed-dialing Drake. It rang once. Twice. Half of a third before the rough Isaac Hayes-reminiscent voice greeted her ears.

'Johnny's Tavern, y'got Drake's attention...?' the smooth dialect should have been followed with: y'daaaaamn right... but that was just her opinion.

"Hey Brotha Drake... its Nadia..."

'Sista-child! How's my baby girl holdin' up after the little helter-skelter we had last night?'

_Damn your poetic speech, Drake_..._ Damn __**everything**_

"Not so good... how's Lady and Me-Ma?"

'Out of order until further notice,' _they lived through _their _onslaught_ 'and Bitty-Child?'

_No, don't ask about Emily_... _why did you have to go and do _that_, Drake?_

She didn't answer. Couldn't. Thinking about it still hurt too damn much. Instead a sob tickled its way up her throat, narrowly escaping, coming off as more of a sigh than anything else.

'Sista-child? How bad's Bitty hurtin'?'

"Bit–Emmy's not hurting anymore; she won't be hurting anymore..."

_Take the hint man!_

'Daaaamn, sincerest condolences from all of us, baby. Anything Brotha Drake can do for Sista?'

"Yea," _Merciful release, you chocolate saint_..._thank the gods these hospital meds won't be wearing off any time soon_ "care to send a broken girl a care package?"

''course, baby. What can Brotha set you up with?'

"Uh... a triple should do it for now."

'Triple?! Ain't that a little much, baby?'

"Not from where I'm standing..."

'True. Of course we never even considered how you might react to losing such a valuable part of yo life...' Glad that he couldn't see her reaction, Nadia squeezed her eyes shut, grimacing at the thought of her sister. 'Tell ya what Brotha Drake is going to do for ya... cuz he loves his Sista-child, Drake's sending The Lady and Phillip to do some grief management... and a quadruple. How're the brother's and yo Auntie Moseley?'

Chancing a look back at the house, she sighed into the phone as deep creases of worry set in. "She's pretty broken up about the whole ordeal, as would be expected. Didn't really help that I came running down to her just now thinking everything that's happened in the past few days was nothing but a bad dream... past couple of months actually."

The 'tsk' and sorrowful 'aww' that slipped out of her cell's receiver brought Nadia dangerously close to tears, forcing them back with a broken grin. Shaking her head she realized that if there was ever a movie made about Drake, the only people that could ever play him would either be Isaac Hayes or Samuel L. Jackson; he was just that cool.

'And the boys, how are they dealing?' Pulling in a deep breath–because the explanation called for it– she let her head fall a bit, picking out another cigarette.

"Can't really say, ya know? On the one hand, they're doin' all they can to be there for me; Dean's been wonderful, Sam's the same; but I can almost taste his guilt, he blames himself for Emily. I don't, not at all, the boy doesn't have a Devil's Trap yet... what could he have done to resist possession? Doesn't help that their old man also died yesterday, I saw it happen, Sammy–when he found out that I saw it happen... ha, that boy amazes me..."

'Didn't react the way you thought he would?'

"He hugged me."

'And Dean...?'

"He doesn't know about his dad just yet, it's not my place to tell him anyway. Honestly, I'm kinda scared about how he might react."

'Like his brother; it'll be hard, but he'll accept it. He'll have a whole party of retired hunters on his ass if he reacts any differently towards you than that.' The ghost of a smile that flickered this time decided to linger on the huntress' face, quite glad that she still had the bunch from Johnny's just a phone call away.

"I'll keep that in mind, it's a comical thought."

'Speaking of Devil's Traps... you talk to J. Leroy lately?'

"Yea, Friday I think. He's coming to town Tuesday."

'Tell that odd bastard to come by Johnny's while he's in town, I'll fix him one of his weird-ass ugga bugga drinks... on the house.'

"I'll be sure to let him know, Drake. You gonna come by with Lady and Phillip? I'm sure Missouri would love to see you again as well as myself." For as much as Nadia and her sister would cringe at the thought of seeing their surrogate mother being intimate with anyone, she'd always smile from the inside-out when she saw Drake and Missouri together; the pair had been lovers for a very long time in their youth, and to this day they still flirted and had banter battles relentlessly. It was like watching a real life fairytale playing out before her, it wasn't the happiest one, since they never got the chance to get married or start a family or anything like that way back when. But it had always amazed her how they still loved each other.

Secretly, she'd always longed for something like the love between Drake and Missouri; someone to love, to fight with, fight beside, hold, pick on mercilessly without them really being bothered by it, someone to grow old and grey with. _No, DiDi, you won't have that, you can't have that. Emmy was younger than you and her time ran out 5 years before the age everyone else in your family expired at. It's your curse, you can't defeat a curse, you get the hell out of its way. You don't have to right now, but pretty soon_..._ don't be cruel to him, cut Dean loose. Be fair to him._

'You know I'd love to, baby girl... maybe later today.' Sighing, she let the rejection further deflate her dejected state of mind.

"Alright... oh, hey, for that care package... could you toss in some beers, doesn't matter what kind–I get the feeling that the boys are really going to need it." Ending with a yawn, the statement held no excitement, no sense of peace or happiness, she just sounded tired and sad.

'Baby, you sound exhausted. Go back to bed and Brotha's little helpers will be there before you know it.' With a sigh, she presented her goodbyes and hung up the phone.

* * *

Inside the house, the older brother woke with a mysterious start, looking about himself wildly prior to recognition slipping sluggishly back to him. Nadia's room. Her bed... her injuries... her loss... oh god, her sister.

..._where the hell did she go?_ He thought sleepily, rubbing the small of his back as he sat up; a sore reminder from the night before screamed throughout the muscles of the man's back. _She was all drugged and shit from the hospital_..._ couldn't have gone far_... Braving the pained protest of multiple bruised muscles, Dean promptly removed himself from the bed in search of the injured and drugged orphan that had been lying next to him the last time he'd looked. His eyes had _just_ landed on the disconcertingly naked spot on the kitchen counter where he'd always seen a pack of Parliament Light cigarettes and an aquamarine blue Bic lighter... when Nadia wasn't outside smoking, when he heard Missouri's take-no-bullshit/prisoners tone ring out clearly from the parlor room.

"Dean... baby, come into the parlor for a minute..." She sounded strangely upset, like she wasn't about to reprimand him for his thoughts, whether he was actually _going_ to carry them out or not. A cold tinge of fear stabbed at the inside of his gut in tiny pin-pricks._ Something not right... something's definitely wrong here..._

He'd never know how much he should have ignored her call.

Spinning on his heel he padded off towards the voice. And the scene that greeted him when he arrived... by god, he'd never seen the two people within the tiny room looking _so_ miserable.

"What? What's happened _now_?" the only reply that graced the irritated hunter was something he honestly would never have expected... ever. Missouri shot up, ran to Dean and hugged him tightly. Consolingly. And _Jeezy-Creezy _did it scare the hell out of him. And if he'd thought that was scary enough...

Sam looked up from the spot on the floor he was trying to burn to a crisp with his intense gaze, glassy, blood-shot eyes tore through his older brother. "Dean... dad's dead."

* * *

**Yay, so, new chapter... hope you enjoyed it. I've got the next one pretty damn close to being ready. Sorry again for taking so long to update!**

** Reviews love!**


	19. Holding on, it's easier said than done

**Disclaimer: I own whatever the CW/WB does not own.**

**YAY another emotional rollercoaster!! I tend to do that alot, huh? Ok, new chapter that I'd been wanting to post for weeks now. w00t! -CS**

* * *

CHAPTER 19

Any and all hope seemed to be incinerated from the darkest corners and crevices of Nadia's soul as an icy chill coursed through her. The air surrounding her seemed to fall a little more heavily unto her shoulders as she turned to face the monstrously sized house she'd called home for so long; did the boys figure her out? Or has the truth been revealed to Dean? Either way she didn't want to chance a run-in with either hunter, stealthily–alongside a deadly quiet step–she slunk back into the house, sensing that neither brother was nearby, tiptoeing towards the stairs to sneak back to bed. Mourning was an absolutely exhausting ritual, something she'd come to know well from years of experience; her soft bed called like a siren to her.

She was on the verge of closing her door when the sound of heavy footfalls thundered through the kitchen, heading in the direction of the back porch. When they suddenly went silent, she knew whoever was looking for her had discovered her cancer-sticks and lighter had returned to their spot on the counter. She was back inside the house.

Retrieving the soft, moss green blanket from its carefully folded spot at the foot of her bed; Nadia Coltier was damn near passed out when the–once again–heavy footfalls fell silent just outside her door. And the large slab of vertical wood slowly and silently eased open. She didn't move, she found herself unable to. The heart wrenching pain emanating from her observer gave way to who stood in the door frame with stubborn tears boiling at the surface of his eye lids.

_Dean_.

_I'm so sorry things turned out this way_.

Her thoughts came to a shocking and unexpected halt when the gifted huntress was _actually_ caught off guard when she felt the soft brushing of a hunters hand against her exposed cheek. Masking her surprise in an expertly fashion, Nadia's eyes slowly fluttered open and groggily, she turned to the young man leaning over her.

"Hey... Dean... I–I'm sorry..."

_Hold me, damnit someone hold me and tell me everything's going to be okay! _Her thoughts howled miserably; restricting the force of each word to slam into and bounce off her mind alone.

_I've always been the brave little soldier, unfeeling, without want; free of fear so long as Emmy was safe. But she's gone now and __**nothing**__ feels like it's worth fighting for anymore...  
What about Dean... and his brother. So you couldn't save Emmy... you __**still**__ have a chance to save them...  
No, goddamnit, no. If I try to help them... it'll only kill them. The Demon will take Dean from us and Sam and I will wither as result. But if I don't, Sammy's abilities will kill him and Dean would be as lost as me..._

Nadia's conundrum suddenly became very clear, but its solution was being a stubborn bastard. In truth, the sluggish, semi-conscious girl felt like a zombie–warmed over–her mind drifted easily, her expression dazed; her body was almost completely limp. It seemed there was no reason for movement, care or alertness. Not when her Sunshine was gone.

Regardless of her trance-like state, she couldn't escape the realization that Drake had been right about Dean.

"How do you do it?"

_huh?_

"How do you lose the one thing that's mattered most to you over the years and still look _so_ peaceful when you sleep? Lying there looking... blissfully ignorant to the evils of the world... I don't know... I guess I don't know anything anymore... sorry if I woke ya." grief emanated in crushing waves from him as he fidgeted closer to her body, burying his face in the long crimson tresses; blind to the sad and guilty expression she wore.

_Dean_...

"Hmm?"

"You've nothing to apologize for... you lost somebody, too. It's hard no matter who it happens to, if I look calm... peaceful... it's just a look. There's hardly ever truth in a look." Within the brief moment of silence following her statement, Nadia embraced, almost happily, the loving squeeze of comfort Dean's strong hand provided as it gently caressed her wrists where they lay, tightly crossed and clinging the blanket close to her body.

_If only I could shoulder some of her pain_... the thought drifted listlessly into her mind.

"Don't..." the murmur was soft and forgiving, regardless of its sharp undertone and meaning as she flipped over to face him. Giving the young hunter just enough time to wrap muscular arms around her waist to draw her a fraction of a breath away. "...don't ask or wish for shit like that. You've got more than enough of your own right now. No need to make it worse. She drew the short straw... and now, I have to learn to accept that. It would have happened sooner or later... that's the way this job goes. You know that."

Brown eyes, glittering in the sullen grey of exhaustion and loss, bore into his. Before she shuts them tightly, in hopes of squeezing away the sting of pain that visions still bring to announce their arrival, the blue-ish grey tinted brown orbs clouded disturbingly.

He's softly calling her name.

Begging for her attention; asking her to look at him.

But all she hears are the faceless voices in her head speaking of other things.

_**So sad. She was only 28. Such a waste, she had her whole life in front of her.**_

_**Cancer.**_

_**Who knew?**_

_**Who saw it coming?**_

_**So she wasn't really pregnant?**_

_**No.**_

_**I'm sorry; you guys even made up your guest room into a nursery already? How tragic.**_

_What? What the hell? That made no sense! What does it _mean

_**How much longer did they say she had?**_

_**Six years... she could have settled down and had an actual family had she not... had she not...**_

_**How far away was Mary when she heard the bang?**_

_**Front yard... playing.**_

_**Oh my god.**_

"Nadia… Nadia…" his voice dropped when her eyes fluttered open, greeting him with streaks of unnatural silver and blue "What happened, what did you see?"

"I have no idea what the fuck I just saw… it made absolutely _no_ sense… they, they were faceless. And… they were talking about… some woman, 'round my age… she killed herself. There was a little girl… her daughter? Sister? Niece… something… she had been in the front yard playing when the fatal shot was fired… the women and her… they thought they were going to be parents. But it had just been cancer…" her head slumped against his arm in clear confusion. Yes, the vision was quite tragic… but it was so normal, so very different from the trouble their kind usually threw themselves into.

_**Mary Winchester…**_

_WTF? Mary Winchester… the boys mother? What does Mary have to do with any of this?_ She thought as the name slithered softly through her mind.

"That sucks and all… but what does it have to do with us?" she shook her head slightly, climbing from the bed.

"M-my stitches are bothering me… I'm going to go clean them and take some aspirin, go ahead and go back to sleep… you look like you could use some." She fibbed casually, doing her best to scratch around the gauze covering most of her eye. "I'll be right back…"

A feeling of dread seemed to escalate with each step that brought her closer to Missouri; her trek skidded to a halt when she noticed something strange near the back door… her lighter was missing and the pack of cigarettes lay open on the counter. Chancing a glance into the backyard through the blinds on the door, she could have laughed at the sight of Sammy… choking his way through his first cigarette.

_Poor kid… at least he's found an outlet for his grief._

"Baby… is that you sneaking about?" Missouri.

"'souri… we need to talk… _now._"

* * *

"I first met Mary Winchester when we were girls, she'd run away from home to seek my _mother_'s guidance… she was about ten years old then, scared stiff over her first vision. By that time, my mother had already started to help me come into my own abilities… but it's not entirely unusual for a gifted person to mentor _two_ young minds, especially back then…" 

"Back then being…"

"Mid-60's, she was a quirky child… sweet as all get-out, but quirky." The old poop reminisced.

"Mind telling me what her first vision was about?" there was an edge to the question that seemed to catch Missouri off guard.

"Why ever would you ask…"

"There's something I need to make sense of." Taking the old reader's hand, she closed her eyes and allowed the vision to seep from her own fingertips into Moseley's.

"Oh, honey! That was her alright… the day she got her first vision… it was the day she discovered what her fate would be." Missouri exclaimed, handing Nadia an aged photograph of a young girl with a carefree smile and unruly blond pigtails.

"Mary…" the younger mused, her fingertips trailed over the little girls face and hair, "she _knew_ what would come of her? And she still allowed it all to happen?"

"Child, she saw herself burning over Sammy's crib, knew that what happened to her would put her son's on a path that would ultimately save _many_ lives. How can someone see that and throw it all away just so _they_ can live? You kids know better than me, sacrifices are what being a hero's all about." Old, knowing eyes carefully watched Nadia as the young huntress poured over the old photo, memorizing every detail of the little blonde girl smiling vibrantly at the photographer.

"Yeah… was that it? Was that all her vision was about?" when she looked up, the expression that greeted her mentor said she already knew there was more.

"She had told me she'd also seen a young man burning, below him, another young man--also gifted--pulled a young woman kicking and screaming from the room…" she paused momentarily once she caught sight of how the comment caused Nadia to tense up, "now, _somehow_, she knew the young men were her boy's. And the thought of either Sam or Dean falling victim to the same fate as her disturbed Mary… so we spent weeks figuring out a way around it. A way to save the three of you, collectively…"

Nadia cautiously eyed the picture in her hand as she took extreme care in placing it on the coffee table before her; a chunk of crimson hair fell over her busted eyebrow as she watched the picture where it sat. Slowly, she brought her eyes up to meet her surrogate mother's.

"Got anything for me?"

* * *

Sam sat idly on the swinging bench, he'd taken only three cigarettes from Nadia's pack… he'd just taken her sister from her, he couldn't bare to take much more. But as the third and final cigarette huffed out it's final trail of smoke, he'd realized he'd need a lot more than three to black out the pain that moved through him like tar; slow and agonizing. 

He hadn't even heard the back door open, or the soft footfalls of a woman walking towards him.

He did notice her presence when she hugged Sam from where she stood behind him.

"You really shouldn't blame yourself for what happened to… it wasn't your fault. There was nothing you could have done… you were vulnerable, it happens." The whisper drifted softly into his right ear. They stood still together temple against temple, leaning on each other in their darkest moment; silence threatening to destroy any bit of resolve left to them, grief tightly holding their tongues.

"I'll buy you another pack… I took three, but still…"

"Oh, whatev… an outlet's an outlet; if you need a cigarette… it's only proper smoker-etiquette to loan as many as is needed." She huffed quietly; her voice didn't have the strength to raise itself any higher than a whisper. "Besides… Missouri bought me a carton, go ahead and take the rest of the open pack."

The pack dropped deftly from the huntress's hand, landing half an inch from Sam's left thigh. Leaning his head back, he found a strange comfort in the intimacy offered by her embrace. How could she not hate him right now? He couldn't figure it out; it baffled him, almost made him feel worse… yet better, all at the same time; which was even _more_ confusing.

"How can you even look at me right now?" Sighing she released the young man from her grip and walked around the bench to sit down beside him.

"Because right now I'm too concerned about keeping the last things precious to me alive… and I know who the Demon's going to be going after next. You and me both… we're going to have to fight really hard, and make some sacrifices to save his next target." Snagging a cancer-stick, she welcomed the familiar burning sensation as it rolled slowly down her throat. "He's after Dean next."

"NO!" Sam cried suddenly, tears raining down like a hail of bullets as he jumped from his seat. "That rat-bastard is _not_ getting my brother! He took my parents… my girlfriend, and any hope for a normal life… he's _not_ taking my brother too!"

"I…" hiccupping back a sob in her startled state, she quickly attempted to quiet Sam, "I know… Sammy, I understand. Perfectly. He's taken my _entire_ family from me… I don't have anybody left, just you guys, Missouri and the old farts at Johnny's Tavern. That's it, no more; and I'm going to fight as hard as I can to protect what's left. I couldn't save my sister… so I'll be damned if I can't protect you guys. I can't hate you, Sam… I couldn't possibly hate what I choose to save."

The declaration hung in the air, the words stabbing maliciously at Sam's guilt as a dark fear rises in the shadows cast by the formidable storm clouds rolling in. A shiver of apprehension runs up both of their spines. A moment of reserved silence for the fallen hunters pierced their discussion.

After the arduous pause had lingered on long enough, a huffed sigh gave Sam the courage he thought was necessary to speak again. "So where do we go from here, then?"

"I don't know… Missouri seems to have something planned… something she planned _long_ ago, with Mary."

"Mom?" His voice breaks as he speaks and she knows he's close to shattering altogether.

"Yep… we're not going to like it, but it may be the _only_ way to save all three of us… _shit_…" she hissed as the sensation of needles prickling at the back of her neck arose.

"What is it, what's wrong now?"

"They're here…" She breathed with a slight bit of recovered hope, running around to the fence gate on the side of the house; tossing it aside she ran to the drive way, where sure enough, Ol' Phillip and Brotha Drake stood solemnly against a 68' Charger. Deep blue. Drake looked dazedly at the jug in his arms, barely noticing the crestfallen huntress and her companion as they burst into the scene.

"Who are they?" Sam asked.

_You don't remember them from last night? It's Brotha Drake and Ol' Phillip… they're friends._

"DRAKE!" She squealed, sprinting towards the aged black man in dingey grey pants, studded belt, black undershirt, open and black button up, thin framed sunglasses and salt and peppered close cropped hair and beard.

The moment he noticed the girl charging at him, Phil instinctively grabbed the jug so as it wouldn't spill everywhere when the two collided.

"Drake, nice surprise… I should have figured with Lady being down for the count that you'd come!!" actual tears of joy sprang forth and speckled both of their faces.

"If a Coltier calls on a Brotha… what kind of a fool would I be to not comply?" He murmured into her hair. "How you holdin up, Sista Child?"

A disheartening grunt was his only answer.

"And who, dare I ask, is this young squire accompanying our lonesome trade's princess?"

"This is Sam Winchester… Dean's younger brother."

"Ah, Sssssammy… pleasure to finally meet Johnny's other boy." Drake stated coolly, holding out a hand to the psychic youth.

… _dad…_

"Let's take this inside… it's not necessarily safe out here right now…."

* * *

From there the rest of the day was filled with informalities and quiet, unacknowledged fears and somber remembrance of those recently lost. At one point Dean even joined the crowd… but somewhere along the lines, amidst the drunken stupor of drowning the sorrow of death, Nadia slipped away from view unnoticed. 

Hours passed them by; the thick black cloak of night closed in and swaddled the quiet neighborhood in the whisper of unknown fear. Well, unknown to those living 'normal' lives.

Tossing back the last swig of his Corona, a sting of absence rang through a cloud of drunkenness.

_Where's Nadia? When did she leave?_

"I'll be right back… bathroom…" padding through the house the uncomfortable jab of premature silence haunted every inch of the elder Winchester, but a buzzing… no, a thrumming caught his attention. It was coming from the front yard.

What he found was almost shocking.

The jet black Camaro engine rumbled dangerously, accompanied by the booming bass that carried the blaring music into every corner of the neighborhood.

_Kansas?_

To make it worse, smoke billowed from the windows, triggering the hunter to slip into rescue mode. Within seconds he'd thrown open the front door and made his way to the car in question.

"Nadia!" he gasped, flinging open the door to the vehicle as more smoke drained from within. Inside the car, it was as if she had barely noticed his presence; one hand rested on a nearly empty cup of vodka/cranberry, the other hand rested limply on the steering wheel with a cigarette wedged between her fore and middle fingers, her knees tightly tucked against her chest with bare feet planted on the edge of her seat with only her toes hanging over, her head drunkenly laid against the seat's headrest. A moment or two past before she rolled it slowly over to her comrade.

"_Look in the mirror and tell me_

_Just what you see_

_What have the years of your life_

_Taught you to be?_

_Innocence dying in so many ways_

_Things that you dream of are lost_

_Lost in the haze_

_Hold on, baby, hold on_

'_Cause its closer than you think_

_And you're standing on the brink"_

"Hey Dean." She mumbled quietly, as if her words would somehow make things worse for the situation at hand.

"_Hold on, baby, hold on_

'_Cause there's something on the way_

_Your tomorrow's not the same as today_

_Don't you recall what you felt_

_When you weren't alone_

_Someone who stood by your side_

_A face you have known_

_Where do you run when it's too much to bear?_

_Who do you turn to in need_

_When nobody's there?"_

"Who are you listening to?" _why are you out here all by yourself? You know better than me how dangerous it is right now._

"_Outside your door he is waiting_

_Waiting for you_

_Sooner or later you know_

_He's got to come through_

_No hesitation and no holding back_

_Let it all go and you'll know_

_You're on the right track."_

"I found her iPod… she'd made a playlist especially for this kind of… situation. Just for me." Worrying her lower lip, she turned her head to scowl at the rearview mirror before continuing, "It's her 'goodbye', Dean."

The howling guitar filled the void of silence for the both of them.

_How the hell do I react to that…?_

"I haven't cried since we left the hospital… I mean, you _have_ to cry over something like that… she was my _sister_; she deserves at least that much. Right?" Now, he'd seen plenty of people attempt to impersonate Sam's signature 'puppy eyes' throughout his life, but until this point, no one had ever done it successfully; from the driver seat of her car, haloed in smoke, the huntress not only used his brother's look perfectly… but it seemed to surpass the power it usually held when Sam used it.

Huffing, he turned his gaze downward in thought and when his gaze returned to the girl in mourning, the intensity of her look only seemed to deepen. Pursing his lips with a little smirk, he held up his index finger, silently asking for a second.

And in her moment of acquiescence, her eyes closed only to find him gone when they opened again. In shock to her discovery, she hadn't even heard the passenger door open beside her.

"Now, I can't exactly speak from experience… even with the recent death of…"

_John._

"Yea… well, I guess with all that factored in… Sam and I are right where you were yesterday morning. And, going with what dad would have wanted for my brother and me… Nadia… they wouldn't have wanted us to cry. What they would have _wanted_… is for us to fight a little harder. It's like you said last night… we've got _nothing_ left to lose, why hold back now?" He said with a careful eye, observing how each word affected his companion; all the while he took the cup and burning cigarette from her hands as she looked closer to falling asleep with every syllable.

"Giving Vodka and Cranberry juice another try?" she said with closed eyes and a raised eyebrow… the good eyebrow, anyway.

"Ha, good god no… I just think you've had enough for the both of us." Pausing, a new thought occurred to him, "You did wait for the hospital meds to wear off before drinking… right?"

::giggle:: _No… those little bastard pills are STILL going strong._

"Wha… Nadia… you're smarter than that! What the shit were you thinking?!" with that, Big Brother mode was sent into overdrive.

_Uh… I was thinking, 'wow, I just lost my Emmy… life sucks right about now, maybe I should mourn the only way I know how… oh, I'm still drugged… oh well, it's a plus right now.'_

"Why, was that a bad idea?" And he did find it a bad idea… an extremely stupid idea, but all things considered, he knew she could be doing a lot worse.

"C'mon, I think you've had enough for tonight. I won't get in your way if you want to get worse tomorrow… but, you've had enough bullshit for today. Let's get you to bed."

Tugging at her almost limp body, mumbled words slipped half-hazardly out into the night. "Ain't no sunshine when she's gone… it's awfully dark without Sunshine…"

"Uh… well, it is way past midnight."

"No… I used to call her Sunshine, Dean." She corrected drunkenly before singing once more, "Ain't no Sunshine when she's gone."

"Then it's a good thing our kind does better in the dark, huh?"


End file.
